Prince Vince, Vampire Hunter
by Ten Story
Summary: While Lydia's at NYU, she and BJ have developed a steamy romance, but there's trouble in paradise. A mysterious stranger is following Lydia. Will BJ be able to protect her or will he need help from the Prince of the Neitherworld? Extreme Sexual Content.
1. Chapter 1

I just had to call it this title because it made me giggle =) This story is inspired in part by the universe described by FairDrea's "Tempest." Great story lady – you are an artist. It starts out smutty, but there's real meat to the story, trust me. And eventually there's some Prince Vince action obviously (because I love him so! ^_^) but really this is just a romantic little diddy for a great couple, BJ/Lydz. To quote Betty Boop. "What a lucky girl." I don't own BJ/Lydz or any of these concepts except Mythras. Not doing this for money, just for love. =) Strictly Cartoonverse, btw, with only one small reference to movieverse events (and BJ steals his movieverse taxi driver outfit for most of it).

The full length mirror in Lydia's New York apartment, meant just for Beetlejuice's use to enter the realm of the living (although it had been used at times for naughty escapades in their private moments together), revealed a mostly clean-looking poltergeist. Save the bits of grave moss and dirt that clung to his clothes, he was relatively bug and maggot free, which he had been making an effort to be since he and Lydia had become an item nearly a year ago. Instead of just leaving them in his hair and whatnot, he put them in a snack bag in his pocket. He found it rather inconvenient while joyously engrossed in passionate sex to have a roach crawl out from somewhere. It just seemed to kill the mood a little. He didn't bathe often still (more than he used to though) because Lydia had grown very fond of his Earthy smell, declaring it comforting and familiar, and that was just fine by him. Although he had learned that taking showers _could_ be fun, with the proper motivation. And Lydia naked and wet, her long raven hair clinging to her gorgeous back and tiny streams cascading through her every crevasse definitely counted as proper motivation.

Instead of his normal suit he was wearing his red tank top, khakis and his long trench coat. With his hands in his pockets, he whistled for his lover, announcing his presence, trying hard to repress the practically giddy excitement floating around in his stomach that seemed to materialize every time he saw her. It had been happening consistently since they had first met, but when things had gotten more romantic he would say it had definitely intensified.

"Hey babes, you back from class yet?"

He looked at his four watches. He didn't really need to ask if she was back yet – he knew her college schedule inside and out. She should be in the kitchen right now, cooking. But he heard nothing.

The apartment was big with two floors, thanks to Charles' connections and endless gobs of money (not that Lydia couldn't hold her own; her photographs were doing well in two or three galleries). The living room had a few pieces of stylish furniture and a fireplace, but mostly it was filled with half-empty canvases and some bolts of fabric, along with Lydia's dressform. A mostly completed black ballgown was pinned to it – sleeveless and just the right kind of shimmery. She'd been working on that dress for months.

A spiral staircase sat in the middle which led up to a loft-like bedroom. There were big beautiful windows up there that revealed the entire skyline of New York. He would have noticed the view more except his attention was always focused on Lydia, whether they were making love with the skyline behind them, sleeping, watching TV or making jokes. At the age of 25, Lydia was even more witty and fascinating than she ever had been, if that were even possible. She could always keep up with his jokes but the stingers she often retorted now were very smart. And BJ had always appreciated a good brain. He was a lot smarter than he let on.

And what man, honestly, wouldn't want to give this woman 100% of their attention? Beautiful, smart, funny… every time she even mentioned another guy's name he was tempted to juice the hell out of him just to make them wary enough to get lost. Not that he really doubted her loyalty… deep down he knew he was the only one for her. What other guy would love her taking pictures of tarantulas in the house, or watch the latest bad scifi movie with her? …Or be as totally sex-crazed as she was? A thirteen-year-old boy's libido paled in comparison. Or maybe it was just him that inspired that in her. Damn, that made him feel good to think about.

He suddenly spotted a sticky note on the ottoman near the mirror. He grinned.

"Going to be thirty minutes late! Love you – Lydz"

She had drawn little black hearts all around the edge of the note. His grin got even wider.

"Dames…" he snorted. "You know I love em."

"I'm home! Beej? You there?" He heard from the hallway. He turned himself into a dog and started barking happily, wagging his tail, then howling. Lydia laughed as she put her portfolio and purse down and slid off her shoes. She had done her hair so nicely – it was in a half-do - very big and bouffant up top and the rest smooth and silky down her back all the way to her butt. She was wearing leggings, a turtle neck sweater, and the brooch BJ had given her many years ago. She always wore it now – she laughingly called it their 'going steady' pin.

"Ohboyohboyohboyohboy!" he said happily. "C'mon babes, let me out! Time to take this pooch for a walk, if you know what I mean. Hehehe."

Lydia smirked and sauntered in front of the mirror. "Hm, I'm not so sure." She teased.

He poofed back into himself, shifting his eyes mischievously back and forth. "Lydz, you're killing me here… again. Pft. Seriously though, you should hang your panties and bras on the frame of this thing." He gestured to the frame of the mirror. "That way when you're late coming home I can pretend to be smelling ya."

She always smelled of autumn; leaves and the cool breeze with a hint of coffee and evergreen. And that was just her natural smell (except for the coffee, which she just drank a lot). Her shampoo smell was vanilla. God, when those smells all combined in his nose it was intoxicating.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you lonely while I was out?" Again with the teasing. Damn it, she was wearing her ruby red lipstick. That smile was too charming, too seductive. He wondered sometimes if she even had a clue what she did to him.

_Well, she's gotta have some idea if she's wearing her red lipstick again. Damn it all._

"Babes… every second is eternity. And believe me, I know the meaning of eternity."

Lydia laughed again and put her fingers to her lips. "Maybe I'll just throw all my clothes on it now and leave you inside."

"Aw come on! Just let me out already! Don't be cruel, babes. I can't take this anymore. I've been waiting around all day. Do we gotta play charades again or what? Did you forget my name or something?"

She just smiled her coy little smile and started to peel off her turtleneck, instantly shutting BJ up. His mouth dropped to the floor as her black lacey bra was exposed, her healthy amount of cleavage practically overflowing from the cups. BJ started to salivate.

"Dirty old man." She said seductively.

"Watch it, little girl. You should be nice to your elders. I got 750 years on you."

"Oh I'll be _nice _to you alright."

Gently she slid her leggings off. The thong she had on underneath had a little bow in the center of the back. This whole scenario had obviously been pre-planned. And the plan was _working_.

"Babes, you're driving me wild…!"

BJ turned into a race car and started speeding around in every direction. Gently Lydia unsnapped her bra and let her beautiful breasts escape their prison… so deliciously plump and ready to be sucked on. Swinging it seductively, she threw it over the top of the mirror. She made fast work of the thong, giving it the same treatment.

A sudden change came over the ghost. His eyes glowed red. His snake-like tongue licked his lips. He came very close to the bottom of the mirror as Lydia, now completely naked, strattled the mirror on the floor and began to slowly touch herself.

"Come on babes, the devil's hungry. Show me how good that feels."

He could see all of her, plain as day. She was dripping wet all over her fingers, all over the floor. It drove him mad to see her spread eagle in shameless abandon, completely subject to her desire. It didn't take her long to drive herself over the edge – as she approached it she moaned loudly and shouted his name.

"Beetlejuice, oh… Beetlejuice… BEETLEJUICE!"

Instantly he was on top of her, sliding into her, savagely sucking at her neck, hands all over her breasts. It was always such a shock to enter her, his body always being so cold and hers being so warm. She practically screamed at the sensation – quickly he clamped his hand over her mouth. He was so hard it was nearly painful, and her soft warmth sent electricity through his nerve endings. The whole experience overloaded him; savagely he crammed his tongue into her mouth, doing battle with her tongue as her nails raked his back. With a deep grunt he held her close as he climaxed, her legs shivering while wrapped around his waist. After a moment or two, they both chuckled, a reaction to let off steam coming down off such intensity.

"Babes, I couldn't wait for you to get home…"

She smiled and looked into his eyes. "I thought about you all day."

He rolled over off her but kept his hands on her stomach, gently stroking her skin. Her hair was spilling all over the shaggy rug they were on in beautiful waves. He loved looking at it. It reminded him of the beach at night not too long ago, when he and Lydia had gone together. By the bright moonlight they had made love underwater… and her hair had looked so beautiful floating like a curtain of fabric in the wind…

"Beej? You still with me?"

He grinned in a goofy way and touched her hair. "Yeah Lydz. I'm fine. Just thinkin' I'm the luckiest dead guy around is all."

She laughed.

"You know what?" he continued. "That was fun. You should keep me trapped in that mirror more often."

She laughed, tracing her fingers along his arm. "I think I will."

"So what kept you, babes? Why were you late? I mean, not that it's not okay you were late or anything. I'm always telling you if you wanna hang out with friends or something, that's great. Gotta live your life and all…"

"Oh don't start that again." She huffed. "I have plenty of friends, and I hang out with them enough. I just miss you when I'm away."

"I know babes, but you're…"

"Alive. Yes, I know. And you're dead. We've been over this Beej a hundred times. I'm living my life exactly the way I want to, so stop worrying about it."

He smiled. "Okay, babes. Just wanna make sure." They exchanged a little peck of a kiss and settled into an embrace.

"I was at the library." She said. "I needed an extra few minutes there to work on my paper for art history."

"Man, I love libraries! They're so fun to mess up!"

"Which is exactly why I didn't tell you where I was."

"Lydz, I can't believe my ears!"

She sighed exasperatedly. "Look, you know normally I'd be up for it, but I've just been in a hurry to get home lately. I don't want to waste any time on campus."

"I don't blame you. Who can resist staying away from this stud for more than five minutes?"

"No, that's not it. I mean, of course I miss you, but…" Lydia now looked a little tense. It was worrying BJ a little to see her like this. "the thing is that I think there might be someone stalking me."

"How come you say that?"

"There's a man with black hair in black clothes that seems to appear wherever I go. He's in the coffee shop when I go by there in the evenings, he's in the hallways when I'm walking to my night classes… he was even at my last show opening."

Inside BJ's mind a small battle was now waging. On one side he was trying to stay calm, so as not to alarm her. After all, this guy could be anyone, including just her imagination. The other side had swiftly decided to find this fucker and utterly destroy him, regardless of his guilt or innocence. If he was freaking out Lydz, this guy was toast. Quickly the aggression won.

"Let's go find him right now, babes. I'll show him who's boss."

"No, I don't want you to hurt anybody," she said sadly. "Just… I want you to come to my graduation gallery opening on Friday. I was going to ask you to come with me anyway, but now they'll be another reason for you to be there. I need you to keep an eye out for this guy. …I don't feel safe, BJ."

Lydia curled into his arms, whispering gently. It wasn't like her to be so vulnerable. BJ fell absentmindedly into stroking her back.

"Don't worry about a thing. Nothing's gonna happen while I'm around."

She smiled. BJ thought for a moment.

"You really were gonna ask me to come to the show? You want me to be out in public n'stuff?"

"Yes, I do. There's no one else I want to spend the evening with more than you. It's really important to me to have your support."

"But your parents are gonna be there. And all your friends. You sure you wanna go down that road? Out us to everybody?"

Happily she kissed him deeply on the lips. Then she whispered, "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to."


	2. Chapter 2

"Ging! Jacques! Get the hell out here, now!" BJ yelled as he slammed the door to the roadhouse the next morning. Jacques ran out of his room with his dumbbells and Ginger tap-danced down the wall to perch on the couch. BJ was pacing so wildly there were trail marks in an oval shape on the rug.

"What is zhe problem Beatlejuice?"

"Yeah, no need to shout!"

"I think Lydia's in trouble. There's some guy following her. I gotta find out who he is!"

"Lydia in trouble! Sacré bleu! What shall we do?"

"Well let's start smartly. What does he look like?" Ginger asked calmly.

"I dunno. Black hair, black clothes. That's all I got from her. But I'm going with her to her gallery opening tomorrow night to see if I can find him."

Ginger paused. "The graduation gallery opening?"

"Yeah."

The spider gushed. "She's been talking about that show for months!"

BJ paused. "Wait… she talked to you about it?"

"Of course she did!" Ginger snapped. "Girls need other girls to talk to, you know! That ball gown she's been making is for the event!"

The ghost grinned. "What does she say about me?"

"Beetlejuice! Zis is not zhe time for zhat! We must 'elp Lydia!"

"Alright alright alright! Gotta think…"

The three of them sat down on the couch with their heads propped up on their hands. BJ's brain popped out of his head and ran in circles around the room until he stood up to catch it.

"Damn it, my mind's running in circles."

"Beetlejuice, Lydia told me this is a very important opening for her career. A bunch of fancy photography book agents are coming, including that guy from _Insects Weekly _magazine."

"Lydia loves that magazine!" he exclaimed.

"I know. She must be very frightened if she's asking you to come with her. You ruin every party she's ever taken you to!"

BJ looked genuinely insulted. "That's not true!"

Jacques and Ginger gave him a scolding look.

"Okay it's true. But this one's different! She said she was gonna ask me to go anyway!"

Looking proud, he put his hands up on his hips and raised his eyebrows. Ginger and Jacques teared up.

"That iz so romantic! Beatlejuice, she must really love you."

"She wanted you to be there for her big moment! How sweet!"

Very out of character, suddenly BJ felt embarrassed. He even blushed a little. "Alright, shut up! Seriously! We gotta have a plan!"

"But we need some clue as to who zhis mysterious man is, mon ami. What exactly did Lydia say?"

"Did she give you any clues at all?"

BJ scratched his scalp. A palmetto bug flew out of the mass of tangles. "Damn it! Missed one." He threw it in his snack bag in his pocket. "Save that guy for later…"

"Beatlejuice! FOCUS!"

"Alright, okay! Let's see… she said that she saw him at the coffee shop on the way home, and at her night classes, and at the gallery opening… wait a sec… all of those things are at night!"

"What only wanders around at night?" Ginger asked.

"Vampires." Beetlejuice immediately concluded. "Shit. I haven't seen a vampire since I was alive. What's one doing following around Lydia?"

"Mon ami, zhere is no proof zhat 'e is or is not. You are just going to 'ave to keep your eyes peeled tomorrow night." Jacques said. He began doing bicep curls. "And keep your body strong, as well as your mind. …Beatlejuice, are you listening to moi?"

"What's that? I'm peeling my eyeballs."

Ginger knocked the carrot peeler out of BJ's hand and rammed his eyeballs back in his skull. "Listen, beetle breath!" she said in a very authoritative tone. She climbed up on his chest and seized his trench coat lapels. It really surprised BJ – he instantly gave her his full attention. "I don't care if it's a giant bunny rabbit following Lydia around! If you mess up that party for her, well, I've never stood up to you before Beetlejuice, but so help me I'll use every trick I know to make sure your new roommates are sandworms!"

The ghost gulped dramatically.

"Lydia is very precious to all of us, so you better not make a scene! I expect you to be a perfect gentleman!"

"Ginger, you do know zhis is Beatlejuice you are talking to?" Jacques said hopelessly.

"I don't care! And for goodness sakes, you're not going dressing and smelling like that, understand! We've got to get you cleaned up! Jacques, get Doomy, we're going to the mall! We've got to get him something to wear!"

"CLEAN? You've gotta be kidding me!"


	3. Chapter 3

Frantically sewing the last stitch on the zipper in the back of her ball gown, Lydia cursed softly to herself. It was nerve-racking only having a few hours to get ready – the salon couldn't take her until noon and she had just gotten back home a few hours ago. On the plus side, her hair had never looked more gorgeous. It was in an elegant updo with waves of curls that seemed to be floating in place all on their own. Her jewelry was very chunky and a little too sparkly for her normal tastes, but the set's saving grace was its motif of spider webs. A silver chain in the shape of a web draped tastefully from a choker design down to her chest. The earrings had little silver webs dangling from an ear cuff to a small stud. Her black mermaid-style ball gown had silver accents and accentuated every curve she had, and she looked dynamite, if she did say so herself.  
>"Like goth Audrey Hepburn." She said as began to get dressed.<br>She was more nervous than she had been her first show opening. That really hadn't been a big deal compared to this. This was a real opportunity to show her work in a venue that would further her career; she was excited and terrified at the same time.  
>Suddenly the buzzer to her apartment door rang. The security door downstairs had an intercom and buzzer for visitors to call on the residents, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out who could be visiting at the moment. Her parents were on the way to the show from the airport. All her friends were probably already there. And then there was…<br>"Here to pick you up, Miss Deetz." Said the intercom. Lydia smiled, a little taken aback. It was Beetlejuice, but why didn't he just come through the mirror? And she had never EVER in all their years together heard him call her Miss Deetz…  
>Still, all the same, butterflies suddenly fluttered in Lydia's stomach. This was going to be a fun evening.<br>She grabbed her wrap and her clutch and locked the apartment door. On the way down the elevator, it crossed her mind briefly how she was going to introduce a clearly dead-looking guy to her parents, but it didn't really matter so much. Introducing him to them was inconsequential. She just wanted him there, no matter what.  
>When she opened the front door to the building, her eyes nearly fell out of her head. Beetlejuice was clean. Cleaner than she had EVER seen him. He had even scrubbed off most of the grave moss. He wore a black suit with a black shirt and a white tie, the knot loose around his unbuttoned collar. On his lapel he wore a red rose; in his hand were a dozen of the same, just for her. But the most shocking thing was he was tan. He had sprayed something on his skin to make him look sort of pasty-cream colored instead of stark white. It wasn't very effective and sure looked fake, but she was flabbergasted that he had gone to such lengths for the evening.<br>"Hey babes." He said quietly, handing her the flowers. "Damn…you look beautiful enough to make the dead get up and walk again."  
>She pushed his hands down, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.<br>"You don't have to go like this. I didn't mean for you to think I wanted you to come as anyone but yourself…"  
>"Yeah, I know, babes. Don't worry. It's just that… you deserve the best today. You deserve it every day. And it'll be easier to explain me to people this way. If nothing else think of it as convenient."<br>"You never cared what other people thought before."  
>He held his arm out to her. She took it happily.<br>"Yeah, well. Even a dead dog can learn new tricks. C'mon Miss Deetz, you got a show to go to."

The gallery space was packed with fat investors, private collectors, haughty New Yorkers with dry martinis, and friends and family of all the students graduating, but Lydia's area of the gallery was by far the largest and the most crowded. Her body of work was very dynamic and she felt it showed her potential off to anyone who cared to look. Her subject matter varied from the models of the fashion college at the university showing off her own designs to insects, mold, dirt and grime of all sorts. Anything with texture; that's what she liked best. Things that were ancient, timeless, and becoming one with their surroundings, such as broken-down buildings covered in plants and dirt and so on. She loved the oxymoron they represented – life within the lifeless.  
>When the two walked in together it was clear Lydia was nervous. She squeezed BJ's hand tightly.<br>"You want me to juice out of here? I still can." He whispered.  
>"No, no. It's not that. I just really want them to like my work."<br>BJ smiled. "Babes, don't worry so much. You got this."  
>Suddenly Lydia was bombarded by overly enthusiastic art students, friends and relatives, thrilled she had finally arrived. BJ expected this kind of thing - he gently let go of her hand while she helplessly looked back at him. To say she was unsure of herself would have been a dramatic understatement. He grinned his toothy grin at her and shook his thumbs upwards cartoonishly. He was content to slink in the shadows and hunt for this son of a bitch in black, anyway.<br>… Trouble is, art students typically wear black. And most of them could pass for vampires. Either that or demented patchwork-wearing hippies wearing BJ's own "Ode du naturale" cologne, otherwise known as body odor. He took a deep whiff of it and his grin grew further.  
>The good news was vampires were often on the pale side, even more so than the average Manson fanatic. And they had red eyes, which were kind of difficult to hide with contact or glasses. They had an unsettling glow to them if you looked long enough. And BJ was looking with all his might. He had a mission and he wasn't about to screw it up.<br>His eyes finally landed on the back of a head that sent his instincts tingling. The man was tall, with long hair, all the way at the other end of the room. He was just about to head in that direction when he felt a violent tug on his arm.  
>"BJ, there you are. I wanted to introduce you to my friends from school."<br>He glanced down at his arm then at Lydia, who was smiling up at him. He then glanced at the gaggle of semi pretty young girls in front of him, all with stars in their eyes for Lydia's sake, but it was clear to see they weren't all that impressed.  
>"So THIS is the guy you're always sneaking off to… it's great to finally meet you, BJ."<br>"Yeah, we were starting to think you didn't really exist. Four years of school and you haven't popped in once!"  
>Lydia laughed nervously. "Well, like I said, he's very busy with his job. Isn't that right, BJ?"<br>It was clear that Lydia was throwing out a line and needed him to catch it. Normally he'd of relished in telling a few jokes and getting to know new fleshy faces, but his head wasn't in the game right now. His eyes shifted back to where the suspicious man had been, but he was gone.  
>"Damn it… Right, yeah… "<br>The girls paused awkwardly, then excused themselves to get another round of drinks.  
>"Beetlejuice, that was embarrassing. Come on, help me out here!"<br>BJ genuinely felt bad. "I'm sorry babes, really, I just thought I caught a glimpse of this guy you're worried about is all."  
>"But how would you know that? You don't even know what he looks like. I was going to point him out to you if I saw him."<br>"I got a feelin' babes. The juice is telling me what's going on here."  
>"So your juice makes you psychic now?"<br>"Just loan me your compact, will ya?"  
>Lydia sighed and reached into her clutch to hand him her tiny black compact with her powder in it. She was then whisked away by a few reporters, giving BJ the time he needed to juice the mirror. Jacques and Ginger appeared in the tiny reflection.<br>"Can you guys hear me?"  
>"Oui oui, loud and clear, Beatlejuice!"<br>"This is so exciting, we never get to see the world of the living!"  
>"Yeah, yeah, enough about that. Listen, I'm gonna juice all the glass on all the photographs and junk around here. Okay? All you gotta do is concentrate and shift your eyes, and it'll let you see through each one. Keep an eye out for the vampire, or whatever he is. Got it?"<br>"And how will we signal you if we see him?"  
>"I'll be able to see you really faint in the glass, but no one else will. Okay?"<br>Both Ginger and Jacques saluted. Their images quickly shifted from the compact to the photograph nearest BJ, then on down the line. He cackled happily, then looked around with a thirsty eye.  
>"Alright then, now that the search party is at work, where can a dead guy get a brew around here I wonder?"<br>Just as he spotted the bar and was about to head over, Lydia and the fabulous Mr. and Mrs. Deetz came rushing up to him, Delia being the first to hold out her hand to him.  
>"Sooooo Lydia, this is the… charming man we saw you come in with. Aren't you going to introduce us?"<br>"Sure. Um…" she a took a deep breath, bracing herself. "Father, Mother, this is BJ, my boyfriend."  
>"I can see why she's been keeping him a secret from us." Charles muttered into his bourbon. Delia play-slapped him on the arm.<br>"Charles! Don't be so rude! Well it is awfully nice to meet the mystery man that has caused my daughter to refuse every possible suitor I could find for her."  
>God. This alone was reason enough for BJ to hate Delia and mess with her head for another ten years. For nothing else, this snake-like, passive aggressive crap was enough to make his head spin. He held on to both ears just to make sure it wouldn't.<br>"Nice to finally meet you Mr. D, Mrs. D."  
>Charles squinted at him. Lydia immediately recognized the look. It was the only thing she had truly been fearing throughout the night - that her parents might recognize BJ.<br>"You remind me a lot of Lydia's cousin BJ. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him in years…"  
>Lydia laughed nervously. Delia's social programming urged her to join Lydia, though she too had the gears inside her head turning.<br>"Oh, Father. Don't be ridiculous. They don't look anything alike!"  
>"Really? Are you sure? What do you think, Delia?"<br>He pleaded with her with his eyes in the hopes she might once again reassure him of his sanity in any category. She stopped laughing and shrugged.  
>"Well, I…"<br>Suddenly Lydia shrieked, drawing the attention of everyone in her immediate vicinity. She grew paler than she had ever been before. BJ whipped his head around to see what she was looking at - it was Jacques and Ginger, waving at her from the reflection of her "moss on bricks" photograph.  
>"Lydia, are you quite alright?" Delia asked. It was BJ's turn to laugh nervously. Quickly he guided Delia and Charles toward the bar.<br>"Don't worry about Lydz, Mrs. D, she's just… so happy to be here. Why don't you fill up on that… appletini you're drinking and get Mr. D another hard one. We'll see you in a few."  
>Although they departed confused, they departed nonetheless, Charles more than eager to cover the bottom of his glass. BJ grabbed Lydia by the shoulders and grinned at the crowd. "Everything's good. She uh… spilled her drink."<br>At last the wandering eyes went back to their previous origins. Jacques and Ginger shrugged apologetically and fizzled from sight to another picture frame.  
>"Babes… babes. Deep breaths. No one can see them but you and me. Well, it should only be just me, but I guess I've rubbed off on you too much. Phft…"<br>He guffawed at his own dirty pun, but she looked less than amused. Hurriedly he cleared his throat. "Sorry."  
>"You promise no one can see them?"<br>"Cross my heart and… well… hope to live?"  
>She rolled her eyes at him while a very thin man in a beret came up to her, holding out his hand.<br>"Miss Deetz, very pleased to meet you indeed. Roger Wilhelm, Insects Weekly."  
>Immediately Lydia brightened. BJ tried to straighten himself up, knowing this impression was the most important one of the night for her.<br>"Oh, it's so wonderful to meet you, sir. I've been a loyal subscriber since I was eight."  
>"Well I must say my dear we are very impressed with your work here and have kept an eye on you for some time now in your other venues. Our editors deeply appreciate your use of light and how you shape it to emphasize the grittiness of your textures even more so. We've spoken about it at length and we could use someone of your particular tastes, if you're interested."<br>"Are you… serious? Oh, it would be such an honor! I'm so honored, I can't believe that…"  
>As happy as BJ was for Lydia in that moment, out of the corner of his eye he spotted Jacques and Ginger aggressively trying to get his attention, jumping up and down and mouthing for him look where they were pointing. At last, the tall man with the long hair had reappeared across the sea of people. This time he was looking directly at BJ. No smile, no expression whatsoever, but his red eyes were knowing. They both saw through one another's disguises effortlessly.<br>There was no doubt in the ghost's mind that this guy was a vampire. Luckily during his time among the living he had seen a few, and knew just what to do with them.  
>He had seen a priest throw holy water on one that had been feeding of a girl dying of the plague. And Holy water was simple enough to make. He just needed a silver cross and a bucket of water, and it was a done deal. His eyes darted around - happily the man in the beret had such a cross on a chain around his neck.<br>"Oh, how rude of me, Mr. Wilhelm, please allow me to introduce my boyfriend…"  
>Quickly BJ snatched the cross around the man's neck and yanked it off. He yelled an "excuse me" behind himself while he walked toward the vampire, grabbing a bucket of half melted ice on the way. The commotion stirred the rest of the crowd's attention as Mr. Wilhelm shrieked for his necklace to be returned, but he was only half heard by BJ's focused ears.<br>He only lost sight of the vampire for a split second among the bobbing heads of the gallery, but he thought he knew exactly where he was. So he threw the necklace in the cold water, swung it back and threw it just as he arrived on the spot where the vampire had been. Unhappily, Delia was now standing in his place, and the vampire was no where to be seen.  
>Delia screamed. BJ looked about himself, knowing the vampire had duped him. He turned around to the path he had taken to get here, which was still clear. He could see Lydia's horrified face at the other end. He surrendered again to his hopefully-charming-enough grin. "Sorry." he whispered meekly. Jacques and Ginger were also deeply apologetic, giving him a sympathetic look before vanishing from the picture frame nearest to him.<br>The entire crowd was looking at him in astonishment, but their silence and shock was nothing compared to Lydia's burning eyes. And for the first time during the course of the evening, he wished more than anything that he could just juice himself out of here, banish himself to the Neitherworld and crawl under a rock to die… again.


	4. Chapter 4

After all of Lydia's screaming BJ had been forced to endure directly outside of the gallery, Lydia had dismissed him with no sense of uncertainty. All he could do was hang around on the street, waiting for her to finish. His brooding, broken heart pleaded with him to juice back home to lick his wounds, but some feeling or other him… dare he say chivalry? … gave him pause. He wouldn't leave her alone - not with that creep prowling around that had made a laughing stock of both himself and Lydia on her biggest night. But really, had it been the devil's fault, or was BJ just looking for someone else to blame?

Truly, he had no one to blame but himself. He wished he had someone to talk to about all this. That was the one downside of having your best friend also be your lover. When you had a fight like this, who was there to turn to? Not even his strained, often awkward friendships with Jacques and Ginger wouldn't help him now. And playing pranks on a few unsuspecting Neitherworldians wouldn't help either - he knew when Lydia found out, she'd just get madder… not that that seemed possible.

After hours of pacing around under lamplights, chewing on his fingernails, Lydia finally emerged. Despite her frizzled aura, which incidentally BJ could feel even from this distance, not a lock of her gorgeous raven hair had fallen out of place - not a single wardrobe mishap was present. She was flawless, a radiant goddess that even now as he sensed trouble creeping toward him to choke him to new levels of death, his hands ached to touch her, ravish her in all the terrible, delicious ways one person could do to another. From the tips of her long black opera gloves to her black-laced, high fashion stiletto boots, he wanted to undress her slowly, making her squirm…

"Beetlejuice." she said, interrupting his growing fantasy and snapping him back to the present moment. Her voice was surprisingly calm, so he took the opportunity to quickly explain what he'd seen. He did so in a high, feverish tone, desperate to get his word in edgewise before she undoubtedly exploded at him again.

"Babes, it's a vampire. I saw him with my own eyes. I was trying to get him, I had him in my sights. He just disappeared at the last moment is all. I swear that's what happened. He was trying to bait me, probably so I'd walk away from you. That'd give him his opportunity to -"

Lydia bit her lip, closed her eyes in a pained way. "I see. Why doesn't this vampire just summon you to him then?"

"Babes, ever noticed that nobody really seems to have a problem in the Neitherworld with saying my name? The dead can't summon me or unleash my power. Not even undead. Only the living."

"And I've never seen them because the undead can't go to the Neitherworld." she said sardonically.

"Nope. Best they can do is the waiting room. There's a division for their kind there. Sort of a consulting service."

"How very convenient for you. So… it wasn't some dumb prank to dump water on my mother?"

"Cross my heart, babes, it's the truth."

BJ clenched his fists, anxiously hinging on her response. After a deep breath, she continued. "I don't think I have to tell you how much you've… crushed me tonight."

BJ hung his head, only half listening to her. "I know, I know, babes, and you gotta understand that I didn't mean to - whoa. Wait a sec. Crushed? Kind of a heavy word, don't you think babes?"

A pause followed, and he could see from her eyes that it was indeed the appropriate word for this situation. It dawned on him, suddenly, even more than it already had, how much he had screwed up this time. His voice grew a great deal softer. He mustered the most serious tone he could.

"Lydia, I… I'm really sorry." He attempted a short smile, but it wasn't helping matters. "And I mean, come on, you know how often you can get me to say that. I really, really mean it, babes. Honest, I do."

Tears were filling those violet eyes he loved so much. Her perfect façade was falling to pieces in front of him. She was shaking - he reached out to hold her, but she yanked away. That gesture alone was more than enough to hurt him, but she wasn't finished yet.

"I trusted you," she cried. "I buy in at times to your little pranks… I laugh at all your jokes, even at the ones I think are in bad taste, because _I love you_. And I have news for you, Beetlejuice. Love goes both ways. It's a compromise of values between two people until they can both love and live together. This is the only compromise I've ever asked you to make for me. Not for one of your hapless victims or for my parents or for anyone else. For ME! And you couldn't do it."

"I was only trying to protect you, Lydia." he said, even more quiet than before. "You're my whole world."

"I don't want to hear it!" she suddenly yelled. Her mascara was running down her face now. The soul-crushing look she gave him was enough to break him in two. "All I hear are words, words, words, but your actions have always told me that you really only value yourself! Do you know even know what love means? It means when you look at someone, you have the desire to be a better person. And I don't think I've inspired that at all in you. How could you wrong me so badly otherwise?"

BJ shook his head. "You're wrong, babes. I've changed. How else could I say I'm sorry to ya?"

"Well sorry won't even begin to cut it this time." Her breathing was labored as she slouched, clutching her hands over her heart like he had physically stabbed her. "Listen to me. I want you to go home, and I don't want to see you for a long time, possibly never."

"Babes, please…" he begged. "I'll do anything, I'll be anything you want me to be, just don't…"

"It's far too late for that, Beetlejuice."

"Lyds, wait, I - "

"…Beetlejuice."

"LYDIA!"

He yelled to try to stop her, but she wouldn't stop, that much was clear. Instead of talking normally, she whispered, in utter heartbreak, the final words.

"Beetlejuice."

A poof a smoke, a whirlwind of purple and green, and he was sitting on his bed at home. Still shocked by what had happened, he was still for a good long while. At last he looked down at his hands with their tannish tint from the evening's events. He looked over at his vanity mirror and saw himself. He looked ridiculous in this 'human' getup. He hated it, suddenly. Hated himself.

Alive for only about thirty-five years, and dead for almost six hundred, and he still hadn't learned a damn thing about being human.

When Lydia woke up she was lying on her bed, half out of her clothes from the previous night. Her pillow was still soaked with black-tinted tears from her mascara. When she sat up to look at herself, her hair was lopsided and her face was a wreck. Part of her wanted to get up, face the new day and make herself a good breakfast, but overwhelming despair took over and she flopped back down on the mattress. The birds were chirping and the traffic was roaring on the street below, but in her misery she covered her head with the sheets and groaned.

Wilhelm had withdrawn his job offer to her. When she thought about what she had lost because of that - to be sent around the world taking photographs of rare and beautiful insects, to do what she truly loved and be paid for it! It was a once in a lifetime offer. And it had slipped out of her fingers all too easily.

She had lost more than that, though. She could still smell his earthy, natural musk in the space next to her in the bed. What damage had she caused in her anger? Had it really been worth losing him? All she had to do was go downstairs and summon him up - they would forgive each other and everything would be fine.

"I think I need some space," she finally said aloud, pulling herself forcefully out of bed around noon, and after a bit she agreed with herself that yes, that would be helpful. To put some perspective on the whole situation. Sometimes a little breathing room was good for a couple. But only after a brief shower and making a fresh pot of coffee did her body already start to miss his arms around her, his kisses on her shoulder and neck, his breath on her hair. Was forty-five minutes long enough a period for the definition of 'breathing room?'

She decided that what she really needed was a girl's night out. There was supposed to be a poetry reading down at her favorite coffee house later - she'd call the usual suspects and they'd have a great time, she was sure. Perhaps tomorrow she'd be ready to face BJ face to face and mend what had been broken. Yes, that seemed about right. That'd give him time anyway to sweat it out. That was the least he deserved after the trouble he'd caused.

_But what if vampires _are_ real? _She asked herself as she brushed her freshly blow-dried hair. What if BJ had been telling the truth? Shouldn't she put more faith in his word generally than she had last night? Isn't that part of love? She had preached to him last night that love meant inspiring one another to be better, but she certainly wasn't acting all that noble on her end either. But what did it matter, thinking about all this? Tomorrow they would make up, probably without any words at all.

BJ didn't wake up until dusk. It was an automatic reflex. Now that this vampire's face was burned into his mind, when the sun started to go down, he'd fear in his gut for Lydia. Whether she wanted to see him or not, he feared for her beyond any fear he'd ever had for himself.

Quickly he dressed himself, brushed his teeth (a habit he could never break now, he was so used to it) and began wildly pacing the living room.

Jacques and Ginger were eating dinner, quietly watching him. They'd chew slowly, look at one another, then back at BJ. They were afraid to ask how the evening before had gone, so they didn't.

Jacques decided to keep the conversation ambiguous. "So, ah, Beatlejuice, is everyzing all right?"

BJ frantically pointed out the window as the sun's last light dropped behind the horizon. "It's night Jacques. You know what that means? It means HE'S lurking around my girl, with death knows what on his mind! I can't fucking stand it!"

"Beetlejuice, please. Calm down." Ginger coaxed. "Why don't you go over there and check in on Lydia? That'll put your mind at ease."

BJ's brain popped out of his head and saluted him. "My brain can't at ease, Ging! He's on post 24/7 until we can figure out how to stop this deadbeat from hurting Lydia."

"So why don't you go over there?" she repeated. "It'll really help."

He turned quickly, his cheeks puffed up with words that couldn't escaped his pursed lips. At last he let a breath of air out, lifting his hands to the sky in resignation. "Because I… can't! There's nothing I can do."

Jacques and Ginger stood up and watched him lean against the front door frame. He was in utter agony - that much was plain.

"I screwed up, Ging." he whispered in a wounded voice. "So I'll take you up on that sandworm thing you said you'd do, if you're still up for it."

After he finished slinking out of the house, Ginger looked up at Jacques.

"I think he's punishing himself more than we could if we tried, huh?"

"Oui oui, I would agree."  
>"I never thought I'd say this but… I feel sorry for him."<p>

"So do I, mon ami, but what can we do for him now?"

The coffee house Lydia frequently haunted was located in an old brick building from the 1800s. It used to be an orphanage of some kind. She didn't know why, but she always got a friendly vibe whenever she went there - like someone was watching her and smiling. It made her feel warm.

She ordered her usual latte and sat with her friends, who had already reserved themselves a table. Some of them were secretly passing around a flask under the table. One girl giggled as she spiked her coffee as discreetly as she could as the latest melancholy rat stood on stage and spewed out his badly constructed poems. Still, Lydia liked the atmosphere. Just getting out of the house was doing wonders for her.

Then she started imagining BJ standing behind these oily teenagers reciting their filth and poking fun at them. That would've delighted both of them, there was no denying that. She laughed a little, then the emptiness struck her like a low chord on a piano.

She excused herself and went into the bathroom. After splashing her face with cold water a few times, she took a deep breath and gave herself a long, hard look in the mirror, until she was looking past herself and found that she was desperately searching for a clue for BJ's presence. There was nothing.

Touching the glass with her hand, she wished in her heart for him to reach out to her. Enough was enough, this needed to get sorted out.

"Beetlejuice." she said aloud, preparing to go on twice more, but behind her suddenly she felt a cold wind swirl. She turned to find a tall black-haired man with red eyes looking down at her. Her fear was muted only by her complete surprise.

"You…" she whispered. Then he grabbed her and just as fast as he had appeared, he was gone, and so was she.


	5. Chapter 5

Dawn was rising in the Neitherworld, while Beetlejuice stumbled down the road aimlessly, drunk as hell. After hitting every bar in the neighborhood, he couldn't think what else to do, and he certainly didn't want to go home. Squinting, he looked up as the sun peaked over the horizon. It's rays were filling the world with light, his world, when he only wanted darkness. He didn't want the day to ever come again.  
>"Screw you and the bitch that made you." he mumbled to the light, taking another long swig from the liquor bottle in his hand. But his eyes were still drawn to the sun, its simple beauty, and his heart sank like bricks in water as he saw suddenly Lydia's face take the place of the golden orb in the sky. Even with booze in the dead of night, he couldn't drown out the eventual memory of her, just like the darkness could never stop the dawn.<br>What the hell was he anyway? Who was he to deserve her? What little he remembered of being alive seemed insignificant, agonizing and remote. Being dead was all he knew how to be, and since life had been such a pain in the ass, having fun twenty-four seven seemed like the only way to live the afterlife. Keeping things light, focusing on spending frivolous days and relaxed nights until the world crashed down on itself. Why should he care any more than he already did about anything? He'd be stuck here waiting for the end of days regardless.  
>But her presence, her very essence made him care about everything. Her breath breathed life into him every time she kissed him. He had hope for himself for the first time in centuries. Hope that he could have something besides emptiness. How could she say he hadn't become a better man because of her? He loved his existence solely because of her smile.<br>During the night a prostitute he knew well named Malaria had seen him, tried to get him to bite. He admitted to himself that he had been tempted, but after looking at her face a good long while, he remembered that he had been thinking of Lydia the last time he was with Malaria. That had been when Lydia was sixteen, still a virgin and completely innocent to the fact that she was driving Beetlejuice out of his skull. He knew even when he was sinking deep into Malaria that Lydia had burned a hole in his heart forever and no one else would satisfy him again.  
>Even if he had taken Malaria up on the offer, he would have spent well over his time just kissing her, longing for a deeper kind of affection that only love can bring. Love was all he wanted now. Superfluous sex would bring no kind of satisfaction. He laughed as he took another swallow from the bottle, enjoying briefly the irony that already one part of his empty existence was being dissolved by Lydia.<br>"I'm an asshole." he yelled suddenly. Then he yelled louder. "I'm the biggest asshole in all of limbo! Somebody should just bury me already… let a dead guy lie."  
>Beetlejuice laughed at himself abruptly. Now that he thought of it, it was the perfect idea. He'd bury himself like before, but this time, he'd stay buried. Who says he had to be awake for all of eternity? He could just wait out oblivion taking a nice long nap. It'd be less painful, in any case.<br>With a slightly faster pace, he stumbled back to the roadhouse and grabbed a shovel from the garage. His old grave in the backyard had been filled up a while ago while Ginger had been on one of her gardening kicks, so he resigned himself to digging a new one.  
>"Scum dee dum-duh-dum…" he began to sing as the dirt went flying. Jacques and Ginger watched helplessly from the window, not knowing what to do for their friend.<p>

Lydia awoke to find herself in on a bed in a dark room with candles all around her. Her outfit had been changed to a slinky black cocktail dress with a lace collar that covered where her breasts began. She blushed at the thought of a stranger changing her clothes, her embarrassment quickly turning into fury.  
>"Please do not be alarmed. I assure you I did not touch you inappropriately." said a voice from a shadowy figure in the corner. The voice was that of a man's, smooth as silk but powerful as well. Lydia was not comforted by his words.<br>"I think changing someone's clothes is pretty inappropriate, not to mention kidnapping!" she snapped. Upon trying to get up, she discovered her ankles were manacled to the bed posts. The chains were somewhat long and provided a little wiggle room, but she still couldn't get off the bed. She suddenly grew cold, scared.  
>"Who are you? I think I have the right to know who I'm talking to."<br>The man in the shadows shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but that was all Lydia could see. "My name is Mythras." he answered plainly.  
>There was something about the way he had said it that calmed her. It had been so delicate, so soft that Lydia knew he meant her no harm, even in these strange circumstances.<br>"I'm Lydia Deetz." she replied.  
>"I know," said Mythras. "I have watched you for some time."<br>At this Lydia withdrew into herself a little more, reclaiming some of her former anger. "Oh really? And why is that? Don't you think a proper introduction would've been a little less creepy?"  
>Mythras took one step forward. Lydia could see now from the candlelight one of his eyes and a portion of his cheek. His level of aloofness made him suddenly interesting to her.<br>"I have lived in New York for two hundred years." he said. "It is my home. When something from the spirit worlds appear, I make it my business to know what it is. If it is a ghost, I drive it back to the Neitherworld. If it is a demon, I drive it back to hell."  
>Lydia's eyebrow raised. "So you're a really old ghostbuster."<br>She could tell even from what little she could see of him that the reference had been lost.  
>"I guess you're not into movies then."<br>Mythras drew back into the shadows but circled around the outside of the room to another vantage point. It was almost as if he was afraid of her, even though she was his prisoner.  
>"So what are you, if you're that old? You can't be human." she asked.<br>"I am _vampyr_."  
>Lydia's eyes widened. "A vampire?"<br>Mythras nodded in shadow. "But you have nothing to fear, I feed only on evildoers."  
>Suddenly Lydia bowed her head in shame.<em> I really, really need to apologize to BJ. I should have trusted him. I said that I did but it wasn't true. If I had really trusted him I would've believed him from the start. I've got to say I'm sorry, and I've got to make sure he knows it.<em>  
>"You are thinking of the Beetle." said Mythras.<br>"You know about Beetlejuice?"  
>"He is the ghost I sensed. I was hunting him. Then I realized he was… with you."<br>A moment of silence followed while Mythras seemed to float closer to the bed, all the while aiming his face just out of candlelight's reach. A cloak hood around his head and his long dark hair aided him in the task.  
>"You have such a unique smell. You smell of both the spirit world and the world of the living. It is… attractive to me."<br>Lydia grew a little colder and hugged her legs instinctively. "I could call him here to rescue me any second, you know."  
>Mythras shook his head. "This space is protected from Neitherworldians. It is impenetrable but for other hunters."<br>"A ghostbuster trick, huh?" he asked. "So why am I here, Mythras? What is it you want?"  
>It took a moment for him to reply, but eventually he did in a very quiet tone. "It was originally my plan to use you as bait for the Beetle."<br>"So you could exercise him." she said angrily. "Do you even know what that'll do to him? Have you ever seen the room of lost souls? You're a monster if you can do that to someone!"  
>"I have done it to many souls and will continue on, just as I have for fifteen hundred years."<br>"Fifteen hundred…" she gasped. After a moment of thought, she looked directly at him. "In normal circumstances, I would have loved to have gotten to know you. If you had come to me instead of following me around, maybe we could've been friends. But because of your poor judgement, I want nothing to do with you. "  
>"Lydia," Mythras whispered. A long, pale hand reached out of his cloak and touched her hair. She pulled away. "You are so beautiful."<br>"Go away. Just leave me alone."  
>It was only a split second later that Lydia was alone as she had requested. Despite her rage and her own reservations, she couldn't help but wonder about this mysterious vampire. Why was he hiding his face? Why did he hunt other supernaturals? What did he really want out of all this?<p>

Jacques paced around the living room while Ginger continued to watch Beetlejuice from the kitchen window. He was drunker than he had been before, if that was even possible. He'd shovel a pile of dirt, take another drink from the bottle, then start cackling like a hyena. The neighbors were complaining about the noise this early in the morning, but for once Ginger wasn't interested in placating them. She was more interested in BJ's mental health at the moment.  
>She sighed hopelessly. "At this rate he'll be in the ground by noon."<br>"Sacre bleu, not again! He was gone for eight years the last time!"  
>The door bell rang suddenly. Jacques jogged up to get it. Another skeleton in a courier uniform saluted at the door.<br>"Telegram!" he chirped. Jacques took it quickly and ripped it open. His eye sockets grew wider as he ran into the backyard. Ginger quickly followed.  
>"Beatlejuice! Listen to zis!"<br>"Wha? I don' gotta listen to nufin!" BJ croaked. He tipped the bottle to his mouth but found it dry. He cursed and threw it. The glass shattered, narrowly missing Ginger.  
>"Jacques, read the telegram! What does it say?" she commanded.<br>"It is from zee vampire!"  
>BJ's head whipped completely around to face Jacques, even while his body was aimed the other way. "What?"<br>"He says zat he has Lydia and wants you to find him in ze city. Mon Dieu! What shall we do?"  
>Ginger gasped, covering her mouth. The look in Beetlejuice's eyes glowed red with anger. Within seconds he was standing straight and looking sober. "I knew that bastard was there. I knew I was right!"<br>He hurled the shovel across the yard and marched into the house, juicing a bag out of thin air and packing it with random supplies like rope, flashlights and binoculars.  
>"Beatlejuice, where are you going?'<br>"I'm going to the only guy I know in the Neitherworld who's dealt with vampires."  
>"But Beetlejuice, that's just a rumor! Nobody knows if any of what they say about him is true!"<br>"Doesn't matter, it's my only lead. You won't see me again until I have a vamp's head on a platter."  
>Beetlejuice winked with the first smile he'd had in some time and slammed the door behind him.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Beetlejuice appeared quite suddenly at the front door of the Neitherworld's royal castle. He'd been in this limbo longer than many other ghosts, but even he didn't really know why there was a need for a royal family. His best guess was force of habit when civilization started and people came here, they had kings and provinces just like they had up top, just like they had democratic officials and counties now. Maybe the need for

bureaucracy and obstacles for people to complain about was just too strong. What else would hold them back from succeeding if no rich, powerful people were in charge? Or rather what excuse would they use not to make an effort?

It was pouring down rain, as usual around the castle. He pulled up the collar of his trench coat. Showers may have become a necessity these days, but that didn't mean he was fine with getting wet whenever. Balling up his bony fist, he pounded on the door. Lightning flashed in the distance.

"Yo, kids, open up! I gotta see our fearless leader!"

Sleepily the butler came to the door, rubbing one of his eyes so hard it popped out of its socket. He hastily put it back in, trying to focus on Beetlejuice.

"Who could it be at this time of… not _you _again!"

"Yeah, yeah," he quickly interrupted, waiving the man to the side. "Let's just skip all of this and wake up Princey, shall we?"

"Beetlejuice, I forbid you to step into this castle -" a guard tried to say, but BJ already was past him. Soon a small army of servants were following him, trying to protest.

BJ burst with a dramatic flare into the great hall, where Prince Vince was meandering toward his throne in a depressed stupor. He hadn't aged a day since BJ had last seen him of course, and his attitude hadn't improved much either.

"What is all this racket?" he whined. "It has interrupted my poetry writing…"

Upon seeing who it was, the Prince drooped even further, if that was even possible. "Oh, it's you…"

BJ held his arms up and let them fall to his sides. "Damn right its me! At least try to fake a little excitement, your lowness. Anyway I'm here on important business."

"What business could you possibly have with me, you callous philanderer?" he answered, voice cracking. Throwing himself upon his throne, he let his head hang back in utter despair. "The last time our paths crossed, you and Lydia were here to visit. She was a blossoming black rose, her beauty utterly impossible to describe… a sixteen year old goddess…"

"Yeah, I know, but listen, I gotta talk to ya - "

The Prince ignored him. "Just when I was cultivating a glimmer of hope that I might once again be able to win her precious heart, you, you _fiend, _broke it. You stole the only light in my life, my guiding star…"

"Dude! Vince! Get over it!" BJ yelled in frustration. "You never had a chance with her!"

"I didn't see her for _eight years_, and when I did, she was _with you!_ Imagine my broken heart. my disdain for you, how it grew a thousand fold…"

BJ had had enough. He slammed the Prince against the back of the throne with his arm to his throat. "_I don't care about any of that, _you selfish prick! I'm here to talk about Lydia!"

The Prince hardly seemed phased by the sudden violence. In fact he grinned a little, even laughed his creepy, strained laugh. "What are you going to do, kill me?"

BJ hissed in response, trying to reign in his temper. Gently he took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm not here to threaten you, emo boy. I just wanna know if it's true what they say about you."

Prince Vince smiled again. "And what do they say?"

"That your family got to be the royal family of the Neitherworld because you know how to deal with vampires. In life they say you hunted the supernatural."

He wilted instantly. "Oh, that was millennia ago. I would be ashamed to call myself a hunter now…."

"But you're the only one I know who knows anything about it." BJ pleaded. The desperate look in his eyes suddenly made the Prince sit up and pay attention. "And Lydia's been…"

Swallowing harshly, he dipped his head down low. The intense look the Prince had now turned quickly to concern. "What's happened? Where is she?"

"A vamp's got her," he answered. He raked his cracked fingernails through his hair. "I let her get… he got away with her and I… "

Instantly what was left of the Prince's pitiful demeanor was shed. He snapped to life, focused and alert. "How could you let this happen? You were _supposed _to look after her! I should have _never _allowed you to continue on with her!"

"We can argue about it until we're even more blue in the face than we already are!" he snapped back at him. "But right now I need your help. Are you gonna help me or what?"

There was a pause while Prince Vince thought long and hard, his eyes reaching out to the distance. Finally he turned back to the deflated Beetlejuice. "Come with me."

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM MMMMM

Lydia had no idea what time it was, or even if it was the next day already. Being in this dark room was so disorienting.

To her delight the manacles on her feet had longer chains attached to them somehow, which allowed her to stand up and go to the bathroom. Upon her return there was a plate of food next to the door, which she happily began munching on. There was coffee, too, just what she needed. It was a hot, sweet latte, just like she ordered it at the coffee shop. Feeling the warm liquid pour down her throat, she felt revived.

"Thank you…" she gently called out to the walls, in hopes that Mythras would hear her. She felt a little bad about judging him so harshly before, but still… she of all people knew not all ghosts meant people harm, and they didn't deserve such a horrible fate as to be exercised simply because they were hanging around where they weren't supposed to be.

"You are welcome," said the matter-of-fact, soothing voice she knew belonged to him. He was speaking to her through some sort of intercom. The sound rang all around her. "I did not think you would speak to me."

"Right, well… " Lydia shrunk. "you kind of deserved what I said last night. Still, I'm sorry. I'll do anything you ask, honestly. Just please don't hurt Beetlejuice."

"Even though he has hurt you?" Mythras asked after a few moments. It alarmed Lydia, as the pause had been so long she thought he had left.

She sighed deeply. "I admit it. After we… after he… broke up… with me when I was sixteen, I was devastated. He insisted I had to live my own life. He saw me becoming a woman… we had already started having feelings for each other, and it scared the both of us. He thought he would just be in the way if he stuck around. But I missed him every day. And eight years later, I called him. I was done being alone, and so was he."

Again, a very long pause. Then, "He never tried to forget you with someone else?"

Lydia's mouth was full of sandwich, but she hastily answered him anyway. "Not once. He buried himself and slept all that time." she swallowed. "He looked awful when I first called him back. Skinny and ragged. I remember I had dropped out of photography school to spend some time thinking… only after we reunited did I have the courage to go back to it."

"And you're a senior now?"

"Yes. My graduation show was a few days ago. My grades have been turned in already, probably. Graduation is just two weeks away." Lydia tried to look around for a video camera, hoping to appeal to him on an emotional level. "Listen, Mythras, please. I just want to go home. I have a life. Please let me have it back."

A small television blipped on in the corner. Mythras' image appeared. His eyes were just barely visible through the shadows. How they burned. His whole image took Lydia aback.

He moved nothing but his lips. "The beetle will never be able to have a family with you. You understand that?"

Lydia paused. "I do. …But I think I'm okay with that. I kind of did want to have a little girl someday, but honestly, he's more important to me than _anything._ Even my dreams."

Mythras turned his head very slightly toward her. "Lydia, you are a surprising person. Your selflessness bewilders me. Why offer your beautiful heart and soul, as well as your undying loyalty to a creature that has wronged every person he has ever known, both living and dead?"

She sighed. "He's never really wronged me."

"You know that isn't true. Especially in the case of your graduation show."

Her eyes grew cold abruptly. "Okay, so he played a few pranks that backfired on me. But really everything he's ever done has been for my benefit. It just doesn't always go smoothly is all."

"He and I have that in common," Mythras quipped.

Lydia smiled for the first time since her sip of latte. "And as for the show, who's fault was that really?" she quipped back.

He bowed his head in apology, then the monitor flickered off.

Lydia's smile faded immediately. She put her hand on the monitor. "No, wait, please!"

It was too late. No answer from anywhere. Who knows? It could be dawn now and time for him to sleep, if that bit of common knowledge was even true about vampires. Laying back down on her bed, she sighed heavily. Gently she raised her hands up, imagining bony, pale fingers intertwining with hers. On her breath she muttered the name of her lover over and over, praying with all her might that she could break the barrier and he could come to her. She couldn't lose hope that he was out there somewhere, trying with everything he had to reach her extended hands.

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Prince Vince led Beetlejuice up the longest flight of stairs he had ever seen. It was downright ridiculous. Who the hell thought this was a good idea?

"Yo, your lowness. How much farther? I've run out of water, I'm gonna start sweating skin soon."

"Patience, buffoon." the Prince snapped. "I swore off hunting after my beloved betrothed was killed by a demon in life… I soon followed her to the world of the dead by my own hand, but sadly, she was not here when I arrived."

"Jeez, no wonder you're so friggin' depressed." BJ scoffed. The Prince shot him an angry scowl.

"I don't expect _you _to understand. You've never loved anything except yourself. Everyone knows you just want Lydia safe again so she can keep you company in your misery!"

The two had just arrived at a pair of double doors. The Prince was about to insert a key into the keyhole when Beetlejuice slammed his hand against it.

"Whoa there, compadre." he whispered dangerously. "Listen here. I don't have to prove my feelings to you or anyone else, but I'll say this just one time. _I love that woman._ Got it, bub?"

Prince Vince was taken aback slightly. "It's unlike you to admit such a weakness."

"Yeah well, that's because I don't give a damn. Not when it comes to her."

"So you'll do whatever it takes to get her back?"

"You bet your withered blue ass I will."

The Prince nodded. "That's all I needed to know."

With a great deal of effort he turned the key and opened the double doors. Beetlejuice could hardly believe his eyes - the whole room was filled top to bottom with crosses, vials of holy water, a twisted-looking herb garden, and weapons of every kind.

"Who would've thought the rumors about a wimp like you would be right on the nose, eh?"

Beetlejuice's smile deflated when it fell on the Prince, who gave him a jaded glare. After a pause he walked over to a covered object. He removed the cloth to reveal a crystal ball. Clearing his throat, he knocked on it.

"Erm, greetings. Hello, is there anyone there?"

The ball lit up to a bright purple, then the fog dispersed. Beetlejuice was amazed. As far as he knew, only poltergeists like himself could contact the other side… but he should've figured there were other options.

He could see an average living room inside the crystal. A teenage girl with bright blue hair, dark eye shadow and earbuds walked by with a book.

"I say, pardon the intrusion. Miss?" the Prince pleaded. Slowly the teenage girl turned her head. She screamed bloody murder and ran as fast as lightning.

"Drat."

"That's your great plan?" Beetlejuice groaned. "Phfft. I could've scared someone for ya."

"Be quiet!" the Prince snapped. Just then a very old woman meandered in the room with a cane.

"H-hello? Hello? Who's there? You'll have to excuse my granddaughter, she didn't know this thing was real." said the old woman.

"No trouble at all, ma'am, I assure you," said the Prince, bowing. "I am Vincent of the Hellsing clan. May I please speak with Mama Olun?"

"I'm afraid my grandmother's been dead for fifty years, sir. She put me in charge of the crystal in case someone should need to call. I am Jonda Smith, my maiden name was Olun."

"Oh great, you haven't used this thing in so long nobody remembers _how_ to use it? Smooth move."

Trying to remain gracious and not yell at Beetlejuice in front of a lady, Prince Vince smiled forgivingly. "So sorry to trouble you Mrs. Smith, but I don't suppose your grandmother taught you how to use her summoning book, did you?"

"Why, yes, she did, sir. Unfortunately though I only know how to summon you here, to New Orleans. Where is it that you're going?"

"New York City, actually, but once I arrive at your home, I'll be able to assist you to send us where we're going. A living girl is being held hostage by a hunter, you see."

"I see," said the old woman. "And one of your living descendents wouldn't be up to the task?"

"Alas, my father's blood has run quite thin throughout the generations. As far as I know, the Hellsings no longer hunt. There are a few new families in the United States who do it I understand, but I know none of them personally."

"Two brothers in a beat up black Impala wandered here to ask a few questions about a year ago. They wanted one of my grandmother's spells…" she thought aloud. "But I have no way to reach them. Right, well better just bring you over then. You are aware the spell only lasts for twelve hours?"

"Yes, ma'am. After that if we remain in the land of the living, we will be banished to the realm of lost souls."

"Now wait just a sec, Princey!" Beetlejuice yelled. "You mean to tell me we only got twelve hours to save her, and if we don't, we'll be… exercised?!"

"Lydia will be our only hope, Beetlejuice. She'll have to send us back. I know of no other way to do this."

"Neither do I, honestly," Mrs. Smith confessed.

Beetlejuice thought for a moment.

"You said you'd do anything to save her. How did you say it? I could bet my withered blue -"

"Yeah, I got it. I don't need any mental pictures, Princey. I regret even saying it in the first place. …Fine! Let's do this. I'm ready."

"Very well," said the lady. "I'll go get the book."


	7. Chapter 7

Prince Vince flipped to a page in a dusty old tome on a stand nearby while mixing a horrid looking liquid in a cauldron. BJ picked his teeth in a corner, watching with only mild curiosity the woman's image in the crystal ball as she made similar preparations.

"Yo, Princey, how much longer? Who knows what that creep's doing to Lydia!" he snapped.

The Prince's brow furrowed angrily. "You _could _help me, you know."

The comment was ignored in favor of fevered pacing and a furious chewing of nails. "And you're sure there's no other way? This chick can't just call me in a mirror and then I can juice you over?"

"My classification is a suicide, Beetlejuice. I cannot leave the Neitherworld, even with the magic of a poltergeist. If you wish me to accompany you, it must be done this way. Are you having second thoughts?"

"No!" BJ shouted indignantly. "No… I mean, just… the room of lost souls isn't the most fabulous vacation spot is all…"

"Steel yourself, fool," said the Prince, tipping a vial gently into the cauldron for just two, three drops. "Love is perilous, but worth the danger."

Suddenly the cauldron exploded upwards with a billowing yellow smoke. Seconds later the cauldron depicted in the crystal ball did the same. Mrs. Smith approached the globe, hobbling with her cane at her side. "It is prepared," she announced. "I will begin when you are ready."

The Prince nodded at her and began to ready himself - removing his crown, he donned a dark leather hood, blackened with age and weather, along with a leather vest. Then he loaded himself down with weaponry - two quivers filled with silver arrows, a large crossbow, a dart gun, vials of holy water, and white oak branches. To his wrist he strapped a strange device that looked like a reloader for the dart gun, so that a continuous stream of ammunition could be fired. When he was finished, BJ hardly recognized him.

"Whoa." he blanched. Prince Vince turned to him briefly, locking and loading the first arrow into his crossbow.

"What is it?"

"You… almost look bad ass. Pfft. Who knew?"

The Prince sneered at the comment and changed the subject back to business. "He will most likely have set up traps to hinder your power."

"How do you figure?"

"Because Lydia has not summoned you to her, which can only lead to the conclusion that she cannot. That means the vampire is indeed a hunter."

_Or it means Lydia just doesn't want to see me. _Beetlejuice thought to himself. It broke his heart to think that she wouldn't want to call him now, even when she was in trouble. The pain in his chest caused him to clutch at the skin there, finding it suddenly hard to breathe. _Does she really not trust me anymore? Will she ever? _

"Stop brooding and listen," the Prince snapped.

"Look who's talkin', this is the first time you haven't been brooding in a thousand years!" he quipped back.

"I can't give you holy water, because as a poltergeist, it will burn you." the Prince continued. "But you may handle the silver. Here."

He handed Beeltejuice a silver dagger, embossed with the blazing heart of some saint or another. He nodded and tucked it into his trench coat breast pocket. "Been a long time since I stabbed anybody," he grumbled.

"What is the expression? Like riding a bicycle?" the Prince said bitterly. He snatched a short sword from off the wall and spun it in his hand before sheathing it in his belt.

"Whoa, dude. What kind of weird shit did you do when you were alive, anyway? And why are you such a wuss now?"

"As I said, Beetlejuice, love is perilous. Now, let us begin."

Mrs. Smith opened a small handbook and began to read from it. Beetlejuice recognized the cover immediately, and shuttered at the words.

"_Hands Vermillion, start of five, bright cotillion, raven's dive…"_

It started to thunder and lighting outside Mrs. Smith's window. Beetlejuice turned paler than possible - he raised his hands in protest, shaking them wildly.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold the phone! Time out! We're not doing this, okay? If this spell gets messed up in the eensiest teensiest bit, we get blasted right to the lost souls room!"

"Mrs. Smith is educated, as am I." The Prince answered. "It will not be 'messed up.' Now drink."

He handed Beetlejuice a glass with a fraction of the foul contents of the cauldron bubbling inside it. Grimacing, he wasted no time in downing it, anxious to get what he was sure to be disgusting, even for him, past his taste buds. To his surprise, it tasted of cockroach innards, which caused him to smile and smack his lips in a pleased way.

"Hm, like a roach shake."

The Prince rolled his dark eyes. "Of course you would find the taste delightful."

Mrs. Smith cleared her throat and finished her incantation, the thunder outside her home now cracking with a force that shook the chandelier above her.

"_Nightshade's promise, spirits strive… to the living, let now the dead come alive… "_

It was then that Beetlejuice experienced something like nothing he had ever felt. It was like someone had hooked him from his belly button and was pulling him backwards through a black hole - there was an enormous vacuum sucking him through light, color and wind. At last he found himself, covered with some sort of strange clear mucus with just the slightest purple tinge, on the carpet of an old French house with a roaring fire nearby. He was in Mrs. Smith's house, in New Orleans. The Prince was already on his feet, wiping the goop off his face and brushing himself off. Mrs. Smith was good enough to hand them both towels.

The thunder went on and on outside as she grinned. "Goodness, I haven't had so much excitement since my grandmother was alive." she said. Her teenage granddaughter with the blue hair cowered in the corner, her eyes practically falling out of her head.

"Please forgive us if we inconvenienced you." The Prince was hasty to say. "We will quit your presence immediately, and trouble you no further. I just ask you burn this log in your fire."

He opened a small bag and produced a thick twig, hardly a log. She promptly threw it in, which caused purple smoke to rise.

"I thank you for your time, madam." The Prince said in farewell and bowed with a flourish. The smoke enveloped both ghosts. A few sparks flew before Beetlejuice's eyes, and then they were next to a hearth in a historic home somewhere, shut up from tourists for the day, crimson ropes surrounding the area they were standing in.

"The hell are we?" Beetlejuice coughed. "All this hocus pocus is riding my nerves, Princey."

"We are in New York, on the outskirts I believe." declared the Prince. "Upon my death, this was all forest land, and yet undiscovered. Remarkable, isn't it?"

"I forgot you're not a frequent flyer round these parts."

"It is at my own peril I stay to explore, but the temptation is very strong. We should depart."

BJ paused as he watched him head down a hall in search of an exit. He almost felt sorry for him, suddenly. As a poltergeist, filled with anger and unfinished business, he could come here pretty much whenever he wanted. The others of his kind weren't so lucky. The whole thought inspired him to jog up to the Prince, anxious to start up a conversation.

"It must suck being a permanent installment down there, huh?" he asked. "I got a pretty good idea, I mean… I spent a few centuries puckering around till I figured out how to play the game. But for you… there's no way out I guess."

"Not until the universe meets its end." he replied. His usual despair did not frost his words however - he seemed calm and accepting of his fate.

"Pfft. No wonder you're so depressed."

"It comforts me little that you will now judge me less harshly than the rest of the denizens of our world. Your opinion means nothing to me."

"Well," BJ scoffed. "nice talking to you, too."

Quickly the Prince hushed him and pointed forward, gesturing that they should both crouch down out of sight. There was a building up ahead, its tin roof recently soaked with rain. A heavy padlock chained the metal door shut; ugly graffiti covered the walls. An occasional car drove by, rolling through the wetness of the street, but otherwise the area was silent.

"He is there." said the Prince.

"How can you tell?"

He responded by quickly pulling out a red pendant from his vest, strung on a gold chain. The little stone glowed and vibrated outwards.

"There's a nosferatu tooth inside." he explained. "It tracks them."

BJ paused for a moment. "Bad ass."

After rechecking his cross bow one last time, the Prince's eyes lowered and he spoke with a new sense of gravity.

"What you said just now, Beetlejuice… it surprised me."

"Huh?"

"You eluded to the idea that you felt sympathy for me. You've changed. The old you would have never said anything of the kind."

"Yeah well… don't get used to it." BJ scoffed again. The Prince smiled, just briefly.

"She's made you a better man, it seems."

BJ didn't know how to respond, so he didn't. Instead he replied, "Let's get going. It's showtime, Princey."

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Lydia, hugging her knees on the bed, struggled to keep her tears away. Hours, maybe even days had passed, and she was no closer to freedom, or even the objective of her captor. She kept seeing her lover's earth-stained fingers, and kept feeling his weight against her back, hugging her from behind. It reminded her of the nights she had spent alone, during those eight years, that she wished for him. She would touch herself in such a passion, imagining his lips on her lips and his voice in her ear. Where was he? What was happening outside? Did anyone even know she was missing? Did Beetlejuice even care?

All the turbulent, doubtful days where they both hadn't known the other's feelings seemed to return, and all the isolation with it. She couldn't know how he was feeling now, if he had finally resigned from her, and buried himself for good. Were her words too harsh? Had she done all the damage she could, and forced him to leave? She shivered in the cold, though her legs were covered in black thigh-high hose of thick nylon. A lace band at the top kept them from slipping - her skirt was so short that when she hugged herself the hem revealed where the lace ended, but she couldn't feel modesty, or much of anything else, when she was overwhelmed by fear and uncertainty.

Abruptly the television flashed on and Mythras' face appeared once more. The hood over his head made him a dark triangle - wherever he was, it seems he was near a window, and it was black outside.

"Your knight approaches." he said in a strange, pained way. "Forgive me, I cannot have you call out so he will hear."

The silver chains on her ankles took on a life of their own - they shook and pulled her legs taught as she let out a scream. Two other shackles clamped over her wrists and pulled, and a cloth tied itself over her mouth. Her arms, now pulled straight above her head, were useless to her now, as was her voice. Her fear escalated to terror; tears finally escaped her eyes, and she did not try to stop them. She couldn't do anything else.

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The poltergeist and ghost slithered their way against one of the walls of the structure under a window. Beetlejuice heard a small, interrupted shriek - his ears perked up immediately.

"That's Lydz!" he yelped. The Prince's eyes went wide as he yanked him downwards, clamping his hand over his mouth.

"Quiet!"

"We gotta get in there now! She's in trouble!"

"_Keep a cool head! _You have no idea the dangers we are exposed to. If you don't keep quiet they'll be no one left to save her!"

Much to their mutual surprise, instead of an ambush, they were greeted by a door creaking open to welcome them. Beetlejuice instantly bounded inside, the Prince clamoring after him.

"No wait, it's a tra -"

_BANG. _The door shut behind them, and they were plunged in darkness.

Beetlejuice reached out to feel anything near him - his eyesight in the dark was better than the average ghost, but this darkness was all encompassing, almost drowningly so. He heard nothing, saw nothing. His fingers found a wall, but that was the extent of it.

"Princey, you around? Hey! Can you hear me?"

His voice sounded pathetic even to his ears. How could he rescue Lydia when he himself needed rescuing?

At last a few, scattered fluorescent lights flickered on above him, giving the room a dim, green tinge. He found himself in a hall of mirrors, some warped, some normal. Grinding his teeth, he started to run towards what he thought was an exit, but he soon ran painfully dead on into one of the mirrors, his own reflection cursing back at him.

"Damn, what the hell is this?" he screamed. "Come out and fight me, vamp! I ain't scared of no blood sucking pansy!"

"You challenge me in ignorance," a voice answered. It reverberated on all the walls and mirrors, making it seem like it was coming from every direction. BJ whipped his head around like an owl, revealing nothing about his opponent's whereabouts. "But I must give you credit for bringing the legendary Hellsing with you. An extremely intelligent move on your part."

"Shut up and tell me where Lydia is!" BJ cried. He realized after the fact that he had just demanded two opposite things - he stuttered briefly, then shook it off. "I mean, just… let her go, all right? And me and his lowness will go easy on ya."

There was silence for a while then, and for the first time in centuries, Beetlejuice felt nervous. He swallowed, drawing the tiny dagger the Prince had loaned him, backing up toward a wall so nothing could surprise him. He listened hard for even ambient noise, but he heard nothing. Not even the hum of an air conditioner, or a car from outside. At last he took a breath.

"Look, can't we just get this over with, bub? The sooner you get out here, the sooner I save Lydia and we get out of this hell hole. Quit stallin' already."

"And you are certain she will _want _to go with you?" said the voice. "I saw the fight you two had. There was a finality to it, do you not agree?"

"Even if she _doesn't, _I'm not gonna leave her here with _you, _creepy."

There was a short, thoughtful pause, then Mythras' voice rang out once more, reverberating against the walls of the maze. "If I may, I would like to pose a question."

BJ laughed bitterly. "Why not… go ahead." This stalling for time, he thought, might make it easier for him to search the dark for the vampire. _Better keep him talking as long as I can. _

"You don't think she belongs with someone who is living? Is it not against everything the world of the living and the world of the dead believe for you to be seeing one another?"

"Look bub, that kind of thinking kept us apart for eight years, okay?" he snapped. "We're done with that horse and pony show. Angst is not our thing. She's happy, I'm happy. That's what matters."

As the words came out of BJ's mouth he realized their irony. He and Lydia had gone through all of that damned angst, only to break up over a stupid party mishap. The expression he had was one of thoughtfulness.

Mythras' voice was intrigued. "What are you thinking?"

BJ smiled. His posture was corrected, and he carried himself suddenly with an air of confidence he hadn't experienced since the break up.

"I was thinking I should thank you, asshole, for making me realize there's no fucking way I'm going to give up Lyds that easily. I'm not gonna let some mishap at a party, or some arrogant vampire, ruin what we got. So I've decided I'm gonna do three things."

"What are they then?"

"First, I'm gonna rescue Lydia. Second, I'm gonna win her heart back. And third, I'm going to kick your bony white ass."

As soon as his sentence was finished, Prince Vince came crashing through a wall to his left, somersaulting on the floor and running directly for Mythras, who was well cloaked in shadow only a scarce few feet away from BJ. When the green fluorescents hit the vampire's face, his expression was one of genuine surprise - he had not even considered that the Prince might be able to see him. Silver arrows went flying, avoided easily by Mythras' speed. The two figures flipped and tumbled around one another, dodging blow after blow. Mythras spewed a grey cloud of mist from his mouth, meant to envelope the Prince - he dissipated it with an oriental fan with strange writing on it. While coughing the remnants of the cloud out of his lungs, he turned to Beetlejuice.

"Find Lydia! I will distract him! You must go, now!"

"Don't have to tell me twice, bub!" he answered. He transformed into his own puff of smoke and rematerialized in a basement directly below where he had been. There were doors and hallways everywhere - the whole effect was even worse than the maze above. Still he took a deep breath and resolved himself to check every door until he found her.


	8. Chapter 8

After searching frantically, his eyes darting around to each nook and cranny for any kind of clue to help him in his quest, he at last came to a door with multiple locks on it. With minimal effort he sank into a puddle and tried to slip under the crack, only to be blocked by some unseen barrier. It singed him as he touched it. He reformed back into himself, hissing from the pain.

"Damn…" he groaned. With the barest amount of one fingertip he tried touching the wood of the door. It too burned him.

That sealed the deal, as far as he was concerned. No doubt about it. Lydia was behind this door, or at the very least something very important that he could maybe use to find Lydia. The vampire hadn't wanted anyone near this room, and there had to be a good reason for it.

An idea sprang into his head. As gently as he could, he touched the Prince's dagger to one of the locks to see if it would transfer shock to him. It didn't. He grinned like a maniac while whacking the locks off violently with the hilt. Finally the door swung open.

To his shock and relief, Lydia was in front of him, tied to a bed with a gag on her mouth. His heart leapt in his throat - instantly he flew to her, ripping off the gag.

"Babes!" he said, throwing himself on her without any reservation. Tears were pouring down her face, but she responded to the many kisses he gave all over her cheeks and lips, relieving his worry even further.

"Beej, you came. You came for me." she said. They laughed, putting their foreheads together, breathing each other in.

"Hang on, I'll get you out of here in no time." he said. He tried to touch the chains, but it burned him horribly - much worse than the door. Steam rose from his hands and he clutched them angrily.

"Shit!" he yelled. With his mind he tried to juice the chains to at least let out some slack, but they wouldn't yield for him. He tried the dagger again, but this time he wasn't as lucky. The dagger's hilt glowed red and boiling hot underneath his palm. He dropped it immediately.

"Are you all right?" Lydia asked, worried.

"Yeah, yeah, it's nothing, I'll figure this thing out… just gimme a sec."

While he searched under the bed and around the room for the source of the chains, Lydia smiled at him calmly. Her loving eyes made him stop and embrace her again, though the awkwardness of their recent fight was settling in the pit of his stomach. "Babes, I am… " he paused for a minute, searching for the right word, even as he choked on it. "so grateful you're okay."

He was _grateful_. There was no doubt in her mind - he was a better man for having known her. She sobbed into his shoulder as he hugged her tighter.

"Please listen." she begged. "I've got to tell you something."

"The talk can wait for later, babes. We gotta get out of here…"

"No!" she said. "Please. I was so scared and all I could think was that I hadn't told you that I'm sorry. Everything I said to you that night at the gallery was not true. All of it. I am so sorry that I didn't believe you, and I'm so sorry that I said you didn't know what love meant. You know what it means better than I do."

"No, babes… you taught me what it means. It was all you." he confessed. Caressing her cheek with one hand and cupping her chin with the other, he gazed into her eyes as deeply as he could, hoping to convey all of his meaning without useless words. "Please don't send me away again. I… I just can't take it."

"I promise I won't. Not ever." He leaned in against her, and though she couldn't move, she lifted her head to meet his lips, dry but hot. It was Lydia who took the initiative, delving her tongue into his mouth with a deep hunger that he was only too happy to meet. The kiss was so possessive, so passion-filled that it sent him reeling. She was ravenous for him - desperate to show him that everything was all right between them. His fingertips burned for her in immediate response, an electric intensity flowing through his veins. He wanted to shower her with pleasure without taking any for himself. He _needed _to let her know that she was so important… the _only _important thing to him, and that she had his full attention every second of every day.

Not caring if it was foolish to stop trying to free her, he let his hand crawl underneath the hem of her dress and squeeze her left hip. She threw her head back, moaning from having her heart satisfied. They both had an urgency for closeness that couldn't wait. Gently his other hand ran up her leg, raking her hose gently until he reached the apex of her thighs. Burying his face in her neck, the adventurous hand plucked at the waistband of her underwear. It was lacey and very warm underneath his palm.

She was shaking underneath him. BJ's face was burning so hot as the situation finally made its way from his brain to his groin - Lydia, tied up and defenseless, wearing these very alluring and convenient clothes. He couldn't stop himself then. No amount of reason screaming in the back of his head could sway him from diving his hand inside her underwear and sliding his fingers from the top of her smooth mound of flesh to her delicate folds below.

"Ah, please… " she gasped. Her underneath him like this was a familiar feeling, but one he could never get entirely used to. It still felt like a dream, these past few years with her, pleasing her and loving her just as he'd always wanted to. He knew her well enough to go straight to the spot she loved most, but still he took his time, stroking her slowly and watching her face as if it were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Her legs twisted up beneath him as much as they were allowed to by the chains. "All over, touch me all over," she begged. He snarled with growing lust and ripped her dress open at the chest, seizing her right breast with his mouth after he had pulled her bra down. His other hand went directly back to its previous task, moving faster and faster underneath her dress. Only a few seconds passed before she released, shuttering and rolling her eyes back in her head.

Her moisture coated his fingers and he smelled them with utter delight glittering in his eyes. "I want you," she confessed to him, a sweaty, delicious mess sprawled underneath him, but he grinned at her, shaking his head.

"Let me have a snack, babes. I'm so hungry."

Her face and chest flushed, but she parted her legs all the same. He got down on all fours between her legs and smiled ferociously, licking his lips. With one quick tear he robbed her of her last barrier to him. Looping his arms around her thighs to keep them open, he reached out with his tongue to give her a short, sweet tickle. She bucked her hips and gasped from the shock of it.

Chuckling under her, he resorted to long, slow licks in an upwards motion, tasting her like a popsicle. When she groaned, he would groan also, the reverberation from his throat going straight into her. She came for the second time, moaning, then again very quickly after. He rose from his work and grinned wickedly.

"Enough," she begged. "I'm going to pieces here."

Her shaking _had_ become too intense, even for Beetlejuice's liking. He slid against her, pushing belly against belly, resting his head on her shoulder to give her a moment.

"It'd be so easy," she tried to tease. "I'm so… _ready_."

"Babes, I don't need…" he began, though the bulge between his legs begged for attention. He had only wanted to show her how much he cared. How much he was willing to give.

"But I _do." _she interrupted. "Please. I _need _it. I need to feel you."

He looked at her and saw the fear in her eyes. His Lydia, usually so brave, had been so upset these past two days. She was asking him for something to cling to, something familiar. It made him burn with love for her all the more.

Unzipping his pants, it took hardly any effort to slide into her. The shock almost made him choke. It felt _so _incredible, being surrounded by such warm wetness. He only hoped she was somewhat comfortable with the position. Being chained down like this certainly didn't give them many options.

"Are you okay?" he said, his voice quavering. "Does it hurt?"

"No," she breathed, her face even more flushed than before. "Don't stop. Please don't."

He caressed her face as he moved his hips slowly, gently. After a few moments of staring at one another, she threw her head back.

"Ah, there it is… that's the spot…"

"Is it good?"

"God, it's so… _wonderful_…"

It was all he needed, seeing her face twist in pleasure, to bring him over the edge. He collapsed on top her chest, his eyes squeezing shut and his sweat dripping onto her skin. He only had a moment to regain himself before he heard her sobbing. Immediately he whipped his head up in alarm.

"What is it, babes? What's wrong?"

"I just want to hold you," she whimpered. Tears streamed down her face once again. "Please take me home!"

Upon hearing that, he huffed up his chest and stood up. A sheet was nearby on the floor - he used it to cover her up, just so she wouldn't feel self conscious lying exposed in a half-ripped dress. Lydia smiled at the gentlemanly gesture and watched him walk over and sit by the nearest chain, staring at it for a few long moments.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

Instead of answering with words, he slowly wrapped his hands around the chain and pulled. Steam rose from his hands, but he didn't let go. His eyes glowed red - a battle between the power of the chains and his own power was raging within him.

Lydia screamed. "Beetlejuice, stop!"

Again he didn't answer her. His face was wrought with pain. Lydia began to cry hysterically.

"STOP IT!"

Beetlejuice yelled angrily as the chain broke in his hands. Both he and Lydia panted, horrified and exhausted. Lydia stared at him, forlorn, while he attempted to let go of the chain pieces. It took a while but at last he dropped them from his charred grip.

His palms were as black as night. Bright red blisters bubbled on the meatiest parts of them. He offered her a weak smile as she cried uncontrollably.

"Damn, that took alotta juice."

"Your _hands… _"

"Three more to go, babes, then you can fuss over me. I'm lookin' forward to that part."

"So, you think I wouldn't notice you trying to break my enchantments, simply because there are two of you trying to divide my attention?" said a voice on the loud speaker. "I am afraid you didn't account for everything, then. I hope you have said your goodbyes to one another."

Beetlejuice and Lydia looked around the room frantically, trying to discern where an attack would come from and when. Then all around them on the walls glowed the faint outlines of ancient runes, and Beetlejuice found himself being pulled from the space.

Lydia cried out. "No, please, wait!"

With her free hand she reached out to Beetlejuice, but even as he reached out for her in turn, she was growing smaller, like he was going backwards through a dark tunnel away from her.

"BEETLEJUICE!" She screamed, louder than ever before. "BEETLEJUICE!"


	9. Chapter 9

Lydia had cried for hours. All the sorrow was out of her now - all the panic. Now all that was left was a quiet, dulled pain, but her strength, which always came to her even in the most desperate of times, dictated that she sit up from the bed and try to focus on an escape plan.

Luckily, the one chain that Beetlejuice had managed to break was directly threaded to the other, allowing her to yank it from underneath the bed and essentially free her hands. Nearby was a dresser with a black blouse and a skirt with a full zipper down the length – a convenient find when her legs were still chained. In fact there was a whole store of clothes inside. The deeply seeded fear that Mythras was planning to keep her a lot longer than it would take to trap Beetlejuice became increasingly more real. Still she managed to put on the new clothes with a moderate but not insurmountable amount of difficulty, then even managed to stand up.

No ventilation shafts. No windows, no doors except the one. How the hell was she going to get out of here and find Beetlejuice?

As the words finished formulating in her mind, the door unbolted and Mythras walked in, head still covered with his ancient looking cloak. He left the door open behind him, which made him appear to be nothing but a black shape with the light in the hallway beaming past him on all sides into the room.

In the vampire's hands he carried a tray with a steaming mug and a small dish of fruit.

"I brought you more coffee," he said, setting the tray down but maintaining his distance. "I thought you might be hungry, as well."

Lydia chose to ignore the kind gesture, though secretly she was grateful. "Unchain me. Now that you have Beetlejuice, my freedom to walk around this prison shouldn't be a threat to you."

"As you wish," Mythras replied. The chains unlocked and fell to the ground with a thud. That had not been the answer Lydia was expecting. She looked at him, puzzled.

"How are you so kind, but so..."

"The Beetle is a soul encased in rotted flesh," he interrupted. "hell bent on remaining stagnant while the cycle of energy... the cycle of souls continues on its secular journey. Hunters exist to keep that wheel of life, death and rebirth spinning always."

"But there's always been a Neitherworld." Lydia argued. "There's always been people who weren't ready when they died. Where do you suggest they go? And isn't the Lost Souls room just another place where stagnant souls sit and do nothing, never rejoining the cycle?"

"When you have lived long, and seen much death, you will see why isolating souls who refuse to carry on ensures the health and wellbeing of the rest. We cannot let their corrupt ways influence newly dead souls into staying where they don't belong. For instance… yours."

Lydia rose from the bed, approaching Mythras and standing directly in front of him, looking into his shaded eyes. He seemed taken aback by her sudden directness, but he did what he could to hide his flinch.

"Don't bother fighting for my soul." She whispered harshly. "I love him. And love is _never _wrong."

"Oh, but it is," he whispered back. "More often than not."

A moment passed where they simply stared back at one another, trying to get a read with little success. Lydia watched as the candlelight danced, caught in the deep, dark pools of the vampire's eyes. He was so old, and had seen so much. Her vindictive expression turned to a soft, understanding one.

"No matter what you've done, you still deserve mercy." She said.

The words had hit him – that much was clear. The slightest intake of breath and the slightest flicker of the eyes told the story. Gently he raised a bony hand to touch her hair.

"Perhaps, after the Beetle is gone… in time… you will want to stay here. With me."

"Never." She answered. "That will never happen."

Mythras turned sharply and fled from her presence, locking the door behind him.

Lydia sighed, running her fingers through her hair. It was so quiet in the room – deathly quiet.

"Lydia!"

She screamed. The whispered voice in such complete surrounding stillness almost made her jump out of her own skin. She looked over in the shadows, where Prince Vince was hiding, holding a finger to his lips.

"…Your Highness?" she questioned. "Why are you here? How did you find me?"

"You are as radiant a star as always, my dear. It is a pleasure to see you. It is a long story, but I will say that Beetlejuice had no hope of rescuing you without my help."

"…You'll have to explain that later. Right now we've got to find Beej, who knows where… "

"Lydia, please… listen. I know Beetlejuice would want me to get you to safety before I come back for him." He gave her a sympathetic look. "Please, allow me to do this."

Her brow furrowed immediately in protest. "No, there's no way I'm going to let you – "

"This vampire obviously has feelings for you, Lydia!" the Prince snapped. "_I understand what that means_. If he realizes you have escaped, he would not dare exorcise Beetlejuice right away. He will keep him to lure you back here. He knows if he destroys Beetlejuice without having you already in his grasp, there is no way you will go with him willingly. And he does not want to force you. It would kill him to do that. Do you understand?"

Lydia's cheeks flushed a little. She bowed her head, seeing in his eyes that he had meant every word as if he were speaking for himself directly. It made her feel a little guilty. "Your Highness, I'm… I'm sorry if I ever hurt you."

He smiled at her. A genuine smile. "You are just as incapable of maliciousness as I am of holding a grudge."

"That's not true." She smiled back. "I'm pretty sure you still don't invite Beetlejuice to your New Year's Eve parties."

"That has nothing to do with you." He explained. "The last year I invited him he dunked my cousin's head in a vat of chewing gum and taffy. He is still trying to get it all out of his hair, and that was thirty years ago."

They laughed together, a moment of understanding shared. Gently he touched her hand.

"I would much rather be your friend, dearest Lydia, than not have you in my life at all. Er, rather, my afterlife."

She clasped his hand back and looked at him fondly, but just behind the Prince a whirling pool of smoke was seeping through the cracks in the brick walls. It snaked its way around his ankles.

"Look out!" Lydia screamed as she saw it, but she was too late. The smoke wrapped around the Prince's arms and finally his throat, choking him. Mythras materialized in front of him, grinning.

"You fell for an obvious trap, sire." He said in a malicious tone, his first truly wicked act in front of Lydia. "Why would I leave the door to this room open behind me when I know an intruder is sneaking about?"

"I had to take the risk," the Prince said, struggling. "Lydia, you cannot wait for us. You must escape here on your own!"

"Yes," Mythras said, nodding. "The only way a suicide could've gotten here is that old haunting spell. That means by my estimation you have perhaps five or six hours left before you are exorcised automatically, with or without my assistance."

Lydia's eyes widened. "What do you mean? Your Highness, what is he talking about?"

"We are doomed, my dearest!" the Prince said forlornly. "The vampire has won. Please, for both Beetlejuice's sake and mine, leave this place as quickly as you can!"

A split second later, as the Prince's face was being swallowed by the murky smoke, both figures began to seep into the bricks of the wall. Then they were gone, and Lydia was alone again.

Her first reaction was to begin crying again – the emotions of loss and hopelessness were already rushing her from all sides. But then she saw on the floor where the Prince had disappeared a small knife. On the handle was a lion combatting a snake with the crucifix shining above them. She grinned. The Prince had somehow managed to slide the knife out of a sleeve or a boot – it was fortunate that Mythras had been distracted enough not to notice.

"With any luck…" she whispered, taking the knife in hand and raising it as high as she could. With all the strength she had she plunged it down onto one of the chains at her feet, and the chain broke in two.

"Hang on, boys, I'm coming…"

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM MMMMMMMM

When Beetlejuice came to, he coughed violently. At first he thought his eyesight was just a little hazy from being out cold, but then he realized the room he was now in was filled with incense smoke. When he tried to wave his hand in front of his face to disperse it, he found himself tied to an inclined table. In front of him was a large gilded mirror - so large that it took up most of the wall. To his right was Prince Vince in a similar state, but still unconscious. Mythras was sitting on a pillow in front of the mirror, swaying an incense burner back and forth and chanting something in Latin.

He tried to juice his limbs into boneless spaghetti-like forms so he could slide right out of his bonds, but it wasn't working. He tried to pull on the chains around his wrist, but he winced in pain from his palms. They were still blistered and swollen.

Was the vamp in a trance? Was it worth the risk to try to wake up the Prince and formulate a plan? BJ admitted he couldn't think of anything else to do.

If he stretched his leg just enough, maybe he could kick him…

"Psst! Hey, Princey!"

No answer. BJ rolled his eyes. He kicked him a little harder this time.

"Yo, sleeping beauty!"

"Mrrh… wh-what?" the Prince moaned, flopping his head toward the source of the noise. When he shook his head, he fluttered his eyelids in surprise, then began to take on the look of a frightened animal.

Prickling angrily, BJ adapted a haughty dialect. "Ah, yes, well you see, while you were resting… we SORTA GOT CAUGHT!"

"_Shhh, I know, you idiot_! Can't you see the vampire is right over there? You have no idea the dire situation we're in!"

"Oh, I don't, do I?" BJ quipped. In the distance he heard the wailing cry of a ghost in despair. In terror they both looked at the mirror, where the faintest shadow of an image could be seen. Another shadow, then another, until a full skeleton-like face bathed in green light flashed in an expression twisted with anguish. It was the Lost Souls Room.

"A gilded and blessed mirror... " The Prince gasped.

"You don't have to tell me. Pretty sure I know what he can do with that thing, bubba!"

"Will you be _quiet!?_"

"We're gonna spend the rest of eternity in a little green room surrounded by deadbeats with lobotomies! I'm not real interested in keeping it cool right now!"

"Well, on the bright side you'd hardly be aware of it… you would be just as 'lobotomized' as they are."

"Always there to offer me a little ray of sunshine for my cloudy day, aren't ya?"

"And with any luck, Lydia is already on her way out of here…"

Beetlejuice perked. "What? How? Did you find her?"

"I left her something that should help. Even if we cannot escape, as long as she is safe, our souls will not have perished in vain."

"Yeah, well I'm not quite ready to give up the ghost yet, your lowness. There's gotta be a way out of this mess!"

Beetlejuice's high pitched, yet whispered pleadings were trying the Prince's patience. He stared angrily at him, pouring all his hatred into his efforts. "Keep your head _cool_! If not for our sakes, than for hers! She is probably on her way out now, and we have got to make sure his attention remains focused here!"

With a deep exhale, Beetlejuice relented. "Okay, okay. So what's the plan?"

The Prince chewed his bottom lip. "Give me a moment. I will think of something."

"Oh, _that's _real comforting, man. Yeah, oh, hang on, the warm and fuzzy's just about to kick in… Ah, there it is. I feel so much better now."

"For the last time, be _quiet!_"

"All right, all right. Jeez."

A moment or two passed. Mythras still chanted – it seemed his trance hadn't been interrupted by the squabble behind him. Beetlejuice fiercely chewed on his bottom lip while the Prince was intensely scanning the room for anything that could be helpful. At last his eyes landed on Beetlejuice's blistered hands.

"You were trying to touch forbidden metals, weren't you?" he said. "Those burns are fairly severe. The metal must have been infused with iron used to bind a saint, or perhaps nails used to crucify a saint…"

"Come on, man. I don't need a history lesson, all right?"

"It was brave of you to touch it," the Prince went on. His tone was serious and respectful. "That kind of wound will not heal on a poltergeist without help. When we get out of here I will take you to a witch doctor who owes me a favor."

"Are you kidding me? I can juice myself back to normal in no time. I'll be right as rain before you can say Mort's your uncle."

"No, you won't." he replied sternly. "Not even your power can heal that. Believe me."

Beetlejuice looked at him squarely, trying to understand. "You're a lot weirder than I thought, Princey."

Prince Vince smiled. "I know in your language that means thank you, so you are welcome."

Beetlejuice paused. He inwardly groaned at what he was about to say, but all he could think of was Lydia, and how she'd want him to say it.

"Listen, Princey. If we don't get out of this, I just want to say… "

"What is it?"

"Look, don't rush me, all right?... I just know that Lydz would want me to, ya know… "

"What?"

"I'm sorry, all right? For all the times I played tricks on you and the stuffed shirts at the castle. And I'm sorry I messed up your parties. But I refuse to apologize for dunking your cousin in the taffy. He had it coming! …Just wanna make that clear."

He huffed a little and the Prince smiled again, this time very softly. "Understood, and I concede that point."  
>Beetlejuice cleared this throat, attempting to but a gruff spin on his words. "Glad we got that out of the way."<p>

In the mirror, the Prince saw that Mythras' eyes were rolling forward and he was now out of his trance. With an alarmed look he signaled for Beetlejuice to stop talking, but instead he rose to the occasion, choosing to let his stress out by teasing the vampire.

"Finally decided to join us, huh, Count Gothula?"

"The Beetle. At last we meet." Mythras said, approaching them both with ominous composure. "Taunt me if you must, but know that even if you manage to escape from here, you only have one hour before your haunting spell is gone. This…" he gestured to the mirror, "is your fate regardless."

"We _can't _be that low on time already!"

"You cannot win, fiend!" Prince Vince declared. "We shall rebel to the last!"

"You are the fiends." Mythras hissed. "While my unlife is unholy, I use my cursed hours to hunt the unnatural. I do good when I am given evil."

"If you truly wished to do good, you would destroy yourself!" he snapped back. "You are the only unnatural thing here. Lydia belongs with you even less than she does with a poltergeist!"

"Hey!"

"Be _quiet_, Beetlejuice!"

Mythras laughed for the first time. It was cold and unfeeling – merely a gesture. Then he went on, staring Beetlejuice directly in the eyes. "You have a reputation for mischief, Beetle. I think that no one in the Neitherworld would miss you. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just exorcise you right now, and allow you the hope that in the next fifty minutes or so you'll manage to escape."

"I… uh… " BJ stuttered. "I'm charming?"

The Prince thought for a moment. Then his eyes lit up. "Because he is a changed man!"

Both of them looked at him, surprised. Lydia, creeping silently, reached the door frame to the room just in time to listen.

"I would not have believed it, but this night has proven to me without a doubt that Beetlejuice is no longer the creature he has always boasted. He had gone to great lengths to convince all the denizens of our world that he is a low class villain with no redeemable qualities. But I know, thanks to his deep love for Lydia, that he is not that villain now, and only pretends to be to keep up appearances. And no one is the wiser, save for me. True love can change anyone. Even someone as insignificant and depraved as Beetlejuice."

"… How many cheap shots am I gonna have to take from you tonight, your royal pain-in-my-ass?" BJ quipped.

Instead of responding, Mythras looked at a clock on the wall nearby. His head turning allowed Prince Vince to spot Lydia waving her hand in the doorway. She quickly popped her head in afterwards, holding her finger to her lips to hush him. Beetlejuice had been too distracted to notice her.

"Forty minutes left, it seems." He said. "I think I will enjoy watching you count the seconds."

At that, Beetlejuice thrashed in his bindings, yelling at the top of his lungs. "I'm not gonna give you the satisfaction, you smug asshole! Instead you're gonna get forty minutes of me trying to strangle you!"

"There is _no way _out for you." Mythras said. "I have trapped the beetle and his eternal damnation is inevitable. Accept it."

The Prince sighed loudly, making a dramatic show of it. It was enough to get Mythras' undivided attention, which seemed to be what he was after. "He is right, Beetlejuice. I should have known this was a fool's errand."

Beetlejuice's head whipped back to the Prince in disbelief. "You gotta be kidding! You, Mister bad ass, Mister karate chop action? I gotta have way too much wax in my ears, you did not just say that!"

Putting on his usual forlorn face, Prince Vince shrugged, his sunken eyes glazing over hoplessly. "Now all that's left is to die again, with dignity this time. Face it bravely, Beetlejuice. It is what Lydia would want you to do." "Like hell! She'd want me to fight to the bitter end! She'd never forgive me if an emo kid and a grouchy vampire talked me out of living my afterlife! I'm surrounded by pansies! LYDIA! I'M COMING FOR YOU!"

Suddenly Mythras screamed, a bloodcurdling sound that rang in the air. His back seized up and he collapsed on the ground, revealing Lydia standing behind him, a bloodied dagger in her hand. Shocked at what she had done, she still managed a small, mischevious smile at Beetlejuice. "Beat you to it, dead man."

He grinned at her – a grin that took up most of his face. The Prince frantically gestured towards his gear stashed on the ground nearby.

"Lydia, the holy water, quickly!"

Lydia grabbed a flask and splashed it on Mythras, who screamed even louder than before. Clawing his face in agony, he quickly dissolved into smoke and dissipated into the air.

"I didn't want to kill him… I didn't, did I?" Lydia said sadly.

"No, dear, just banished. It will take him quite a while to find his way back." The Prince explained.

She smiled at that and used the dagger to cut Beetlejuice loose first. Immediately he wrapped his arms around her and seized her mouth with his. She closed her eyes, swaying with him, enjoying every moment.

"Love you, babes," he whispered to her ear. She rested her forehead against his, sighing.

"I love you, too."

"So next time, you'll believe me when I tell you there's a vampire stalking you?"

She grinned again. "I'll believe anything you tell me."

He looked down at her shirt and pointed. "Got a stain there."

As soon as she looked down, he raised his finger and tapped her nose. They laughed at each other.

"Okay," Lydia conceded. "Almost anything."

"I hate to interrupt… " the Prince said. "But, eh… does thirty minutes mean anything to anyone?"

BJ slapped his hands together. "Right! Let's get gone, eh babes?"

"You said it!"

She opened her mouth to start saying his name, but Beetlejuice stopped her.

"Uh… just remembered. Doesn't work in here."

"We have thirty minutes to find our way out of this building and back to the Neitherworld?" The Prince said, a little more panicked this time.

The three looked at one another, then started frantically cutting the rest of their bindings and rushing to the hallway.

They were home with ten minutes to spare.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The rain around the Prince's Castle offered a torrential downpour as a curtain for the window to his sitting room. Lydia pulled the blanket she was using around her shoulders as she looked out, enjoying the thunder rumbling and the lightning flashes. Beetlejuice was snoring on the couch, bundled up in a pile of blankets and pillows. Most of their wet clothes were hanging in front of the fireplace, and Lydia's hair was just about dry.

Prince Vince tenderly opened the large wooden door with a tray in his hand. There were three mugs on the tray, one of which he handed to her as soon as he had offered her a meek smile and set the others down on a nearby table.

"I had the kitchen make a fresh brew," he said quietly. "It's just the way you like it, I believe. Beetlejuice enlightened me."

She smiled back at him, hers even weaker than his. "I think I'm done with coffee for a while."

He took the mug from her and set it down, his eyes darting wildly, trying to decide what to do or say. He finally settled on, "May I get you something else?"

"I don't need the lord of the castle to serve me." She said kindly, sitting on the floor by the fire. He joined her, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"A lord in name only, if we are to be honest." He scoffed. "It's my afterlife burden to bear is all."

"Personally, I think you've suffered enough." She replied.

"Time… " he thought aloud. "Is not quite as… thick here, for lack of a better word. It has never seemed as real as it does in the living realm."

"I guess I've noticed that myself. I always used to lose myself coming here after school. I missed homework every now and then."

The Prince gave her a look. She smiled, visibly relaxing.

"Okay, maybe a little more often than that."

They laughed. Then she looked at him directly.

"Thank you so much for everything. You risked your life tonight for me, and for him. I will never be able to repay you for what you've done."

As she gestured to Beetlejuice, he snored on. Still she smiled at him, deeply and warmly. Upon seeing this, the Prince sighed dramatically and leaned back against the bottom of the couch.

"I hope you don't hold it against him." She said hastily in response. "Me being with him, I mean."

"On the contrary, my dear. I now mourn the loss of what might have been all the more." He answered.

"Why is that?"

"Because now I understand fully what you have given him. Not just your companionship, but your influence. You have made him more than what he was. I can only hope I will be blessed someday with such an honor. That is all that any man wants, really. To be made more than what he is."

"That's all any woman wants, too." Lydia said.

After once again smiling, he stood up and bowed his head to her. "Please feel free to rest here as long as you'd like. And … perhaps in the future you could visit once in a while. I could teach you a few things. In case the vampire should show his face again."

"I'd be grateful for that." She said. Then the Prince took his leave, closing the door very softly behind him.

After looking at him fondly for a moment, Lydia happily bounded over to Beetlejuice, digging out a place for herself in the nest of blankets and resting her head on his shoulder. He groaned in protest at the sudden disturbance, but put his arm around her all the same.

She kissed his neck playfully. Still with his eyes closed he grinned, squeezing her tightly and pulling her up on his lap. The blanket she had been using as cover fell to the wayside, leaving her topless save for her lacey black bra. Her hair was wild and tangled down her back; Beetlejuice's hands ran through it absentmindedly, crooning in approval at the feel of it between his fingers.

"Who would've thought?" she questioned, smiling. "You're a hero."

"Nah. Just a coward who needs you around. Being without you, being exorcised… tomato tomato, babes."

She smiled into their full, deep kiss, enjoying every sensation that came with it. Mischievously she relaxed her hips, lowering herself so she was brushing against every intimate part of him. That instantly wrangled his attention; gripping her arms possessively, he kissed her neck and her chest, smelling her, tasting her.

"How did you know the Prince was a vampire expert, anyway?" she asked suddenly.

"Royal rumors are the champagne of the Neitherworld gossip pages, babes." He managed to say in between kisses. "Wanna hear some of the other ones about him? They're hilarious. Somebody once said he used to go to tap dancing class with Ginger. Pfft! Although, now that I think about it I wouldn't put that one past him..."

"So why did you choose to believe the vampire rumor?"

"Just a hunch, really. Plus I heard this little thing once when I first landed in the processing office. Somebody on the inside. They said he'd wanted the undead office shut down, didn't want their kind getting any special help from our side. That was back when he'd tried to be involved. You know, not just a figurehead with a fancy title."

"I wonder what made him stop trying…"

"Babes," he snapped. "Seriously, you're gonna tease me like this and then small talk chitty chat?"

He gestured wildly to between his legs, causing her to grin like a fiend.

"Pretty much."

Beetlejuice smiled. "Oh, you are a wicked, wicked mistress."

"It wouldn't be half as fun if I wasn't." She replied.

He groaned. "If we're not gonna do it, can we at least go home? The cold rain'll help me out right about now."

"We should set him up with somebody. Maybe get him motivated again. That's just what he needs – a date with a nice ghoul."

"Ugh, for the love of…"

"Who was that girl you used to see sometimes when I was a kid, the tall and sultry one?"

"Come on, babes… remember the pact. I don't ask you what you did the first round of college, you don't ask me about chicks I've dated."

"This is different! It's for a good cause!"

"If you're not gonna mess around, babes, the least you can do is not dig up those ghouls. I don't need to be thinking about them when I'm horny. I'm not responsible for where my mind wanders when I'm like this!"

"What was her name so I can look her up? If she won't talk to you she might talk to someone she doesn't know wanting to set her up with the Prince of the Neitherworld!"

"Babes!" BJ whined, putting his shirt back on. "Pretty sure there's some guy named Cupid who does this for a living. Heard he lives in a town you get to through a holiday tree, whatever that means."

Lydia leaned into him after she had gotten dressed, offering her own sultry look. "Will you give me her number if I agree to help you out with your… problem?"

Tenderly her hand cupped the bulge in his pants, causing him to sigh with a totally different timbre.

"Babes… I will agree to living on Saturn and becoming a sandworm trainer."

Lydia licked her lips and gave him a quick peck before slinking away and sliding on a coat the Prince had loaned her. "Then what do you say we have a little fun with Beetle snake tonight? We haven't played that game in a while."

Beetlejuice began panting like mad while following her out the door. He spoke like a Neanderthal, slow and single minded. "Yeah, Beetle snake. Awesome."

"And then next week you, me, his highness and what's-her-name can all go on a double date!"

Instantly Beetlejuice shrank. "Ugh, babes… mood killer. "

~Fin!~


End file.
